When Duty Isn't Enough
by Firebird9
Summary: Janine once accused Nicholas of being married to the force. Two years after the events of the movie, Nick is wondering whether his duty to the service is enough anymore. Nick/OC and deals with some of the aftermath of the NWA's actions.
1. Chapter 1

**When Duty Isn't Enough**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** K+ (may change)

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine (although I'll take Nick if no-one else wants him). Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**Author's Note:** At the end of the movie it was clear that Nicholas Angel intended to remain in Sandford, and the 'One Year Later' epilogue showed him still discharging his duty as a police officer there. But what if, over time, duty ceased to be enough? Nick/OC

**A/N #2:** Okay, I'm re-posting this because I caught a few errors in the original. R&R please people!

**

"I'm off for the night. You need anything before I go, Chief?" Doris asked as she stuck her head around his door.

"Hmm?" Inspector Nicholas Angel of the Sandford Police looked up from the files he was reviewing to see his only female officer standing in the doorway of his office. "Oh, no. Thank you, Doris," he replied absently. Constable Thatcher shook her head fondly as she turned away.

"Try not to stay all night then," she advised him.

Nick nodded absently, rubbing his temples. Two years. It had been almost two years since he had stumbled unwittingly into the middle of one of the most horrific conspiracies modern England had ever seen. Taking down the Sandford NWA had only been the beginning of a _very_ significant amount of paperwork.

First of all, there had been the grim task of removing the bodies from the crypts beneath the church, formally identifying them, and notifying their families of their loss, in some cases only days after assuring them that their children had probably just run away ('Happens all the time, ma'am. He'll be home soon enough, when he gets tired of cold nights and an empty tummy. Try not to worry.').

Following this, there had been the equally morbid task of determining just how many of the deaths which had occurred in Sandford in the last two decades had been the work of the NWA, an investigation hampered by the fact that both the Inspector and the local coroner had been part of the conspiracy. In the end, there had been no option but to exhume many of the bodies and re-examine them. In most cases the new investigation had confirmed the findings in the original reports, but some results had come back inconclusive... and far, far too many had been ruled suspicious.

Three members of what the papers were calling 'The Sandford Conspiracy' (when they weren't calling it 'The Notorious Sandford Conspiracy', 'The Bloody Sandford Conspiracy', or worse, anyway) had turned Queen's witness in exchange for shorter sentences and new identities, but it had soon become obvious that, with the possible exceptions of Butterman and Skinner, none of the NWA members had been involved in, or even aware of, all the murders.

Almost every resident of Sandford had received some form of counselling, from the youngest members of the Primer class at Sandford Primary, who had learned far too young not only that the monsters were real but also that their headmistress had been one of them, to the elderly parishioners who had made the same discovery about their priest. Danny, who had been instrumental in bringing down his own father's conspiracy, was still attending regular sessions, and Nicholas suspected that he would be unlikely to abandon them anytime soon.

As word of what had happened had first begun to filter out into the village following the shoot-out, Sandford's instinctive reaction had been to close in upon itself, turning its collective back upon the 'outsiders' who had forced them to confront the corruption at the heart of their picture-perfect lives. That isolation had, however, been unable to last: with so many key members of the community arrested the village had had no alternative but to accept new arrivals to fulfil roles vital to Sandford's very survival.

None of the conspirators had made parole, with the exception of the three turncoats, who were being kept in protective custody until the first trials could begin. Now, after two years, it looked as though that was finally likely to happen. Tomorrow morning, Nick would release a statement to the press announcing that the police had completed their investigations and were ready to turn their evidence over to the Crown. They would therefore be scaling back their operations in Sandford, although they would continue to investigate all leads as new evidence came to light.

Sixty-eight. That was the final, confirmed, death toll, although the number was well over a hundred when one took into account all the deaths for which there were more questions than answers but no specific evidence of foul play. In spite of a nationwide campaign encouraging all former residents of and visitors to Sandford to check in with either loved ones or the police, the number edged perilously close to two hundred if you also included the many missing persons last seen in or around the village. Apparently, not all the bodies had made it to the crypts...

Almost two hundred. Unthinkable. 'And yet,' a traitor voice in Nick's head whispered in relief, 'it could have been so much worse.' It now appeared that the NWA had been becoming progressively more blatant over the years as they came to feel secure in their control of the village and immune from any consequences of their murderous actions. According to the analysts, over the last two decades there had been an increase in violent and accidental deaths in Sandford almost every year, with an annual peak during the month leading up to the arrival of the Village of the Year judges, but 2006 had been the worst.

Nick had offered a prayer of thanks for that to any theoretical deity who might be listening, even as he had felt the sick, cold certainty that his own actions had led to at least some of those deaths. If only he hadn't thrown those youths out of the pub that night... but he hadn't known, could not possibly have known, what would become of them as a result of their youthful indiscretion and his determination to do things by the book. And he had not been the one who had murdered them and dumped their bodies in an ancient crypt, before offering their anxious families false assurances of their wellbeing. No, he was not to blame. And perhaps one day he would believe that.

And all had not been roses in Sandford once the NWA were arrested. Some refused to accept the evidence of the NWA's evil and continued to be vocal both in their support for the NWA and in their longing for 'the good old days'. Others had reacted with horror and many had moved away, unable to remain in Sandford with the knowledge of what had been done there to their loved ones by people they had trusted. There had been a number of suicides. On top of that, a potent combination of fear, anger, and mistrust had led to any number of violent confrontations, some of them with the police, others between citizens on opposite sides of the 'NWA line'. Sandford had had its first recorded murder in twenty years, to go with all the unrecorded ones.

Nick read over his statement one more time, then saved it, printed a copy just in case he didn't have time the next day – it never hurt to be prepared – and shut down the computer. He stretched as he rose, wincing slightly at the pull on muscles hunched too long in one position, and reflected that that had been happening far too often lately. He had never wanted a desk job – his office had always been the street – but there had been no-one else to lead the confused and demoralised Sandford Police Department. His duty had been clear and, as always, he had not hesitated to fulfil it.

And now what? he asked himself, as he nodded to Turner and headed out into the cool night air. Although the trials were still to come, and with them the inevitable reopening of old wounds, Sandford was now back on a more or less even keel. And he was bound. By his duty, by his loyalty to his friends and his adopted community, by his own stubborn determination to do what was right.

His duty held him captive.

And, for the first time in his life, he wasn't sure whether it was enough anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**When Duty Isn't Enough**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** K+ (may change)

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine (although I wish Nick was). Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**

He walked alone along the empty streets. He hadn't realised it was so late: the sun was well down, which meant it had to be well after 9pm, and he was still switched on. Still thinking away. Breathing deeply, he acknowledged that he needed to switch off, but struggled to decide how. Danny's action movies worked to a degree, but there was always that part of him that was busy analysing - and criticising - the procedures depicted, and wondering just when anyone would get around to processing any of the paperwork they had incurred, or simply drawing often-unwelcome parallels between the fictional scenarios and his own cases and circumstances.

There were lights on at Danny's as he walked past, but he resisted the urge to stop by. Danny was entertaining Sarah Johnston, who worked at the new garden centre, and Nick had no wish to be the fifth wheel in the budding romance that was offering his friend a comfort and solace which he never could.

His own house was dark and silent. He had considered getting a dog, but it was too much of a commitment given the hours he worked. Maybe a cat...

He put some leftover vegetable stir-fry in the microwave and ran a glass of water from the tap. Taking his plate and the glass he wandered through to the living room and switched on the telly. A quick flip through the channels confirmed that, once again, there was nothing on worth watching. He considered watching one of his slowly-growing library of DVDs, but rejected the idea in favour of a book and an early night.

***

As usual, he rose early the next morning and downed a glass of fresh orange juice before heading out for a run. Arriving back at his house, he noticed the 'Sold' sign plastered across the 'For Sale' notice on the cottage neighbouring his. It must have been put up the previous day, and gone unnoticed when he returned home in the dark. He wondered who the buyer was, and offered up the silent prayer of every police officer, everywhere: 'Please, just let them be law-abiding.'

A quick shower, a bowl of high-fibre cereal, and he was on his way out the door.

"Morning Sergeant," he greeted his surly desk-sergeant, who grunted in reply. The rest of the regular Sandford Police Department were gathered in the main office, ready for their morning briefing.

They had been aware for some time that Operation Dog-rose was drawing to a close, with many of the outside investigators having already left Sandford, and the announcement the previous day that investigations were now complete had come as no surprise to the team. He sent the Andys off to knock on doors and ask questions about a recent stabbing in the high-street (not another murder, thank God, but only because others had been quick to intervene), and told the rest of the team to pick up their patrol schedules from Turner if they hadn't already done so. The Sandford Police Department covered a large area of the countryside, and gone were the days when the team could more or less ignore the outlying areas in favour of staying close to town and the pub. Nicholas had made it clear that he expected them to drive down every road and past every farmhouse at least once a week, on an irregular schedule, and it was testimony to the new-found sense of purpose and discipline in the department that no-one had raised any serious objections to this.

He dismissed them and headed for his office, aware that someone was following him. He turned at the door.

"Bob?" The oldest member of the department nodded to him.

"I's wundrin' 'f-ah c'ld 'ave wurd?" he asked. Nick mentally translated this as _"I was wondering if I could have a word?"_ and nodded, gesturing towards the chair opposite his desk.

"Of course. Have a seat."

He looked at the man opposite him. According to the personnel files, Constable Bob Walker had been a good officer once upon a time, before Frank Butterman began his insidious reign of terror. Then, like Nick, he had seen his questions, suspicions and conclusions quietly ignored or openly mocked, and had his sanity repeatedly called into question, until he himself began to wonder whether he was going mad. Eventually Frank's tactics had worked, and Bob had sunk into a twenty-year stupor of quiet desperation as he tried to do his duty under a commanding officer who was determined to prevent him from discharging it.

On the day of the shoot-out, the officer he had once been had been shaken awake and raised his head once more, and since then Bob had worked as hard as any of them to ensure that the conspirators would meet justice. But he was not the man he had once been, and the last two years had taken their toll. Nick had a feeling he knew what was coming.

"'m not's yung's ah us't be, "he began. '_I'm not as young as I used to be_.' "Allas say ah did best bah Sanf't, bu' truwth's ah hild mah pis. Knew summat's wrang, bu' did nufin' 'bou'tit. Troid t'pu tha roit las'tw yars, bu's anly s'mush baddy c'n tak. Naw't inves'tion's ower 'hink's 'bout tahm' retoied."

Nick's mental translator whirred for a moment as it tried to process this chunk of more-or-less unintelligible garble, and finally came up with _'I've always said I did my best by Sandford, but the truth is I held my peace. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't do anything about it. I've tried to put that right in the last two years, but there's only so much I can take. Now that the investigation is over I think it's time I retired.'_

He nodded.

"It's been a hard time for all of us, Constable, and I've appreciated your dedication throughout this investigation. I'm assuming you've thought this through?"

"Aye."

"In that case, I'll begin processing the paperwork."

"Than'kew sorr." Bob rose and headed for the door.

"And Bob?"

"Aye?"

"For what it's worth, in my eyes you've more than redeemed yourself in these last two years."

The older man smiled. "Than'kew sorr," he said again.

***

'_Police have today confirmed that investigations into the notorious Sandford Conspiracy, in which the Neighbourhood Watch Alliance in the village of Sandford, Gloucestershire, perpetrated a twenty-year reign of terror against their own citizens, are now completed. A spokesperson for the police, Inspector Nicholas Angel, announced that charges will be laid in the deaths of sixty-eight individuals, although it is likely that the true death toll is much higher. He again urged anyone with ties to Sandford dating from any time within the last two decades to contact their family or local police department to reassure them of their safety._

'_It is likely to be some months before the trials of the Sandford Twelve begin at London's Old Bailey, and it is believed that, if convicted, many of the conspirators will face life in prison without the possibility of parole._

'_Inspector Angel is, of course, the man responsible for uncovering the conspiracy and – '_

Nick turned off the news. He did not need to hear another heroic profile of himself. He wasn't a hero. He was a police officer who had been doing his duty, that was all.

That was all he was.


	3. Chapter 3

**When Duty Isn't Enough**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine (although I wish Nick was). Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**Author's Note:** The removal of Nick's intended love interest and the assignment of her intended dialogue to Danny resulted in some interesting implications for their relationship. In this fic I'm going with the writers' original intent of Nick being straight, but I decided to lampshade it, hence Doris and Danny's comments (anyone unfamiliar with the term 'lampshading' should visit .org. Warning: it's internet crack.).

**

"Late night again, Chief?" Doris asked, as she stuck her head around his office door two weeks later.

"You can talk," he responded with a smile. Once he would have worried that her own late nights were, to put it bluntly, due to her trying to get into his pants, but that was the old Doris. The new Doris was a very different woman, and a very different police officer. The look on Andy Wainwright's face the day she had turned on him after he had pinched her arse, calling him a 'prehistoric, sexist dinosaur' and asserting that she was 'twice the police _officer_' he would ever be, was something which Nick knew he would treasure for many years to come.

The new Doris was a competent and dedicated police officer, and determined to prove it.

"You need to get yourself a girlfriend, Nick," she informed him, perching on the edge of a filing cabinet. Her position and her use of his foreshortened name made it clear that she now considered them both off duty and was speaking to him as a friend rather than a subordinate.

"Doris..."

"Oh, don't look at me like that. I don't mean me."

He nodded, relieved.

"Or a boyfriend, of course."

"Doris!"

This time she laughed out loud. "Well, you can't blame me for wondering. You're always so precise, and you and Danny are so close..."

"We're just friends, Doris. I'm not... that way inclined. Not that there's anything wrong with-"

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a knot. I've known Danny Butterman since we were kids: if he were 'that way inclined' I'd know. It's not as if you can keep anything secret in a place this small."

They were both silent for a moment, thinking about exactly what _had_ been kept secret in Sandford.

"But you're here every night, long after the rest of us have taken off. You need something more, something other than the job."

"Yes, well, that didn't work out so well for me last time."

"If you mean Janine, that was three years ago, and by all accounts it was you who ended it."

"Because I couldn't be the man she needed, the man she deserved. She was always second best." He paused. "Did I tell you she got married? Some guy called Bob, or Dave, or something. I think I met him once."

"Do you wish it was you?"

He thought about that for a moment. "Not really. It's more... it could have been me. If I'd been willing to put her first."

"Well, at least you've realised your mistakes. Now you can avoid repeating them, eh? Or are you planning on spending the rest of your life alone?"

"What if I can't help it, Doris? I've never had a knack for switching off."

"Well, now's a good time to start then, isn't it?" she asked. And, before he could process her intentions, she hopped off her perch, crossed the room, and turned off his computer.

"Doris! Do you have any idea how bad that is for a computer? What if I hadn't saved my work?"

"You always save your work, Nick; that's just you. And some woman out there is going to find that endearing."

She tousled his short hair, and he smiled. "You sure you're not making a play for me?" he teased.

"Well, at least you have a healthy ego," she responded smartly. "That's harassment, you know."

"Oh, and uninvited physical contact and enquiring about my sexual preferences is what?"

"It's called 'friendship', Nick. Tony said something about the pub, if you're up for it."

"Maybe another night."

"Suit yourself. See you tomorrow then."

After she left, Nick sat for a long time staring at the darkened screen in front of him. Maybe Doris was right. The more he thought about it, the more it began to make sense. He had known for months that the late nights weren't born of duty but an attempt to avoid returning once again to his empty cottage and the doubts that it raised. It had started with Janine's letter, and his mixed feelings upon reading it. He had been telling Doris the truth when he said that he wasn't pining for Janine, but he couldn't help wondering, what if it had been him? What if he had someone to come home to, not just for a while, but for the rest of his life? And was willing to make the effort to actually come home to her?

He shook his head and stood. Empty house or not, it was time to leave.

**

The next day was his day off, and for once he had no intention of stopping by the station. Not even for a few minutes. Not even to check whether Doris' actions the previous night had damaged his computer. Because he had better things to do. Really. And so he mooched around the house, washing laundry and cleaning the bathroom.

Danny stopped by just before lunch, when Nick was in the garden.

"Hey, Nick!"

He straightened with a smile. "Hey, Danny."

His first friend in Sandford was looking good. He had slimmed down a bit in the last two years, mostly thanks to cutting back on the cake and ice-cream and getting a lot more exercise as the new chief forced everyone out of their cars and the pub and onto the streets.

"Missed you at the pub last night."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I just had a few things to think about."

"Doris-related things?" Danny waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"No! God, no. Danny, I'm her Inspector, it'd be completely inappropriate for me to-"

"Inspect 'er?"

Nick groaned at the pun.

"So you've thought about it then, eh?"

"And you haven't? She wasn't exactly Ms. Subtlety, back in the day."

Danny chuckled. "We've all changed a lot, eh? You made us change. We're real police _officers_ now, even the Andys."

"Yeah." Nick nodded. "I'm proud of you all, you know."

"But you're not happy." It wasn't a question, and Danny sat himself down on the front step, suddenly serious. "Doris is worried about you. And, to be honest, so am I."

"I'm fine, Danny."

"Are you sure? You just seem so distant lately. Almost like when you first arrived." A frown flitted across Danny's face. "I know I've been spending a lot of time with Sarah lately...?" he suggested tentatively.

"And I'm happy for you. You've been through a lot: you deserve to be happy."

"Right, right. So what is it then?"

Nick sighed. Danny's investigative skills had improved with experience, but at times he still rushed in with all the subtlety and bumbling enthusiasm of a large and energetic puppy.

"Is it to do with Janine getting married?"

And then showed that he was significantly more perceptive than any puppy.

"Yeah, I guess. It got me thinking: is this it? Is the service all I'm going to have, for the rest of my life? I come home every night to an empty house, I wake up every morning in an empty bed. What happens when I retire? Do I just wither away all by myself?"

"God, you're morbid. You could always go down in a hail of bullets instead."

"_I'm_ morbid?"

"Why don't you ask someone out then? Can't hurt to try, eh?"

"I guess. But there's no-one..."

"You're telling me that with all the attractive single women in this village there isn't a single one that interests you?" Danny paused. "It is women, right?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that? No, I'm not gay." Humour mixed with exasperation as he recalled having the same conversation less than twenty-four hours previously.

"I was just saying."

"Well, can you do me a favour and spread the word?"

"Might help if you asked someone out. It's not like it has to be love at first sight, eyes meeting across a crowded room and all."

"Have you been expanding your DVD collection?"

Danny shrugged. "Sarah's added a few of her own. Stop trying to change the subject. My point is, find someone and give her a chance. Get to know her, and if she isn't the one for you, try again. It's not like anyone's going to say no to the hero of Sandford."

"See, that's part of the problem, Danny. I don't want a woman who's interested in 'the hero of Sandford'. I want a woman who's interested in me. And, call me old fashioned, but I guess I do want that whole 'eyes across a crowded room' thing. I want love at first sight, I want to feel tongue-tied, I want fireworks, butterflies in my stomach, sweaty hands and a racing heart!"

He stopped, to see Danny staring at him in open admiration.

"I don't think I've heard you that excited since you told the Andys that Leslie Tiller's death was murder. You should write that down, you know. Apart from the bit about sweaty hands, you can leave that out. Women love that stuff." Danny grinned. "Shame you just wasted it on me, eh?"


	4. Chapter 4

**When Duty Isn't Enough**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**Author's Note:** In the last few chapters I've been trying to set up the idea that Nick _wants_ a relationship. It's not a question of a woman coming along who can 'break through' his defences and 'convince' him to let her in: he's already letting his defences down, and is willing to let someone in _without_ the need to be convinced. In other words, the main difference between this relationship and his past relationship with Janine is that this time he wants a relationship that works, and he's willing to make changes in his working life to achieve that. If it wasn't Lily it'd be someone else.

**

Danny had stayed for a beer, but he had another date with Sarah that night and was keen to get home and get ready. With a cheery "see ya, mate" he had left Nick to finish his gardening.

The sound of a car slowing and then stopping brought his head up. Sandford was a small place, and it wouldn't be the first time reporters, or just random tourists drawn by a ghoulish desire to visit the scenes of the infamous murders, had found their way to his house. It hadn't taken long for his address to be leaked, even without the 'helpful' locals who were more than willing to offer directions to anyone who asked. But the vehicle – red Fiat, older model, registration PMO 36X, Nick noted automatically – was stopped outside the cottage adjoining his. The driver opened the door and emerged, walking around the car to the passenger's side and reaching in to remove something from the footwell. From the shape and the insistent mewling coming from it Nick surmised that it was a cat carrier. It appeared that his new neighbour had arrived.

He was still crouched beside the flowerbed and, preoccupied with the cat basket and finding her keys, it appeared that she was oblivious to his presence. Nick felt an instinctive stab of concern. He could be anyone, sitting here watching her, and she hadn't even noticed him. Stalker, rapist, serial killer... okay, so it was unlikely on a bright summer's afternoon, but she still ought to be more aware of her surroundings, especially given where she was moving to.

By the time he had finished his musing she was lost from sight inside the house – car door and front door both left open, he noted sourly. He rose, dusting off his hands and walking towards the vehicle. He could close that one for her, at least.

"Excuse _me!_" a voice snapped from the doorway. He turned guiltily. Not so oblivious after all, he thought. Just his luck.

"That's my car," the woman informed him. "Mind telling me what you're doing?"

"I was just closing the door for you," he replied irritably. "It's not safe to leave them open, you know. Encourages thieves."

She gave him a look which clearly implied that she had serious doubts about the veracity of his statement, and started down the path towards him. 'Female, late twenties, approximately 5'5", medium build, fair complexion, brown shoulder-length hair tied back from face, brown eyes, jeans, white t-shirt' his mind catalogued automatically. Followed by 'she's pretty,' and 'no wedding ring.'

"I was just coming back to unload it," she told him, but her tone and expression had softened. She stopped, and the corner of her mouth quirked upwards in amusement. "You're standing in my way."

"Huh? Oh, sorry," he moved aside, suddenly conscious of the fact that he was dirty, sweaty, and dressed in a baggy grey t-shirt that had been none too fresh when he put it on. "Um, can I give you a hand?"

She was bent over, head and shoulders already reaching over to the back seat of the Fiat, and he tried to resist the urge to stare at her arse.

"Pardon? I didn't catch that." She re-emerged and turned to face him as he gazed guiltily at the sky before refocusing on her face. "I'm Lily, by the way. Tigerlily Birch." She looked at him as though expecting something, but he had heard far stranger names in his time.

"Nicholas. Nick," he replied instead, offering her his hand. "I live here. Next door," he jerked his head in the direction of his house. "Sorry about my hands; I've been in the garden."

"And it shows," she responded, then winced slightly. "I mean, your garden looks great. Roses?"

"Yes, they're good for deterring intruders. Lots of thorns."

She blinked. "And do you get a lot of intruders here, Nick? I thought all the murdering psychopaths were gone." At the look on his face she bit her lip. "I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me. People are always telling me that I have an inappropriate sense of humour... I guess I need to work on it."

He shook his head. "No, it's alright. I'm a police officer so I tend to think of these things."

"Police..." recognition dawned in her eyes. "I thought you looked familiar. You're him, aren't you? Inspector Nicholas Angel, the man who took down the Sandford Conspiracy?"

He nodded, not sure whether he was pleased or disappointed by her recognition.

"Well, I guess I can sleep easy then. This must be the safest neighbourhood in Sandford." The rumble of a large engine distracted her, and she glanced back down the road. "That'll be the removal van," she informed him. "Well, it was nice talking to you, but I'd better get on with it." She turned and moved past him, waving her arm to attract the attention of the van's driver.

"I can give you a hand if you like?" he called after her, regretting his over-eager tone as soon as the words crossed his lips.

She turned, smiling and walking backwards to look at him. "That'd be great, thanks."

**

He joined the two removal men in unloading the van, ignoring their knowing winks, nudges and comments about 'not wasting any time'. Lily was kept busy directing the three men to deliver their burdens to the correct rooms, wincing and uttering the occasional 'careful with that' in the process. Nick, at least, was being careful, but he wasn't sure he could say the same for the two 'professionals'. At one point he caught one of them miming a drop-kick of a small box clearly marked 'fragile' while his companion grinned. Nick's ferocious scowl sent them both on their way, and he retrieved the box from the tail of the van and delivered it himself.

"Bedroom," Lily directed briefly after glancing at the box, and he obliged, setting it down on top of the dressing table. Everyone else was downstairs, and in the momentary quiet he had time to reflect on what, exactly, he was doing there. 'She's pretty,' he acknowledged. 'And she seems nice enough. She's got a sense of humour, even if it isn't the most sensitive. She doesn't seem to set much store by the whole 'hero of Sandford' thing. And something about her is making my heart race.' He drew a deep breath. "I'm attracted to her," he muttered softly to himself. He wasn't sure whether that was a good thing, or not.

"Nick?" His new neighbour's voice calling from downstairs broke into his train of thought. "You find a place for that box?" There was an edge of suspicion in her voice, and he realised she probably thought he was snooping.

"Yeah, just taking a breather," he called back, and started back down the stairs.

**

Finally the van rumbled away, and Nick and Lily turned to look at each other. There was a moment of silence which stretched out uncomfortably between them. 'Don't leave yet!' a small voice in Nick's brain screamed at him. 'Find an excuse to stay. Offer to help her unpack.'

"Uh, could you use a hand with the unpacking?" he heard himself ask.

"Oh, would you mind?" She seemed genuinely relieved at his offer. "It's such a huge job, and I always like to get the bulk of it done on the first day."

He nodded. "It's no problem." He nodded towards her downstairs toilet. "I'll just go wash my hands." At her slightly surprised look, he clarified. "My place is the mirror image of this, so I figure the toilet's down here."

She was in the kitchen when he emerged a moment later, unpacking a box of crockery into a cupboard.

"So, what can I do to be of help?"

"Um, would you mind setting up the TV and VCR?" she asked, nodding towards the living-room. "I always find it so tedious getting them tuned in."

"Not a problem," he assured her, although he would rather have been in the kitchen, where he could talk to her. 'Although,' he thought wryly, 'that might not be the best idea, given how tongue-tied I've suddenly become. And I wish those damn butterflies would settle down.'

Still, he reflected, at least his palms weren't sweaty, so he shouldn't have too much difficulty with the buttons on the TV remote.


	5. Chapter 5

**When Duty Isn't Enough**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**

Several hours later, Lily collapsed onto her sofa with a sigh.

"Well, that's the kitchen and living room done. I normally get takeaway on moving day, if you'd like to stay? It's the least I can do."

"Actually," Nick replied, "I was going to ask you if you'd like to have dinner with me, since you don't have anything fresh on hand to cook with."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "You've already done so much for me I feel kind of bad putting you to more trouble."

"It's no trouble at all," he smiled.

She smiled back. "In that case, let me go and give the cat some dinner, and I'll be right over."

"Perfect. I'll see you in ten?"

She glanced at the window. "Make it fifteen? I'd like to grab a jacket in case it gets cool later, and I'm not too sure where they've ended up."

He nodded. "See you then."

As soon as her front door closed behind him he bolted for his own. It was only as he reached it that he realised he'd left it unlocked all this time. He mentally kicked himself, particularly after the mini-lecture he had given Lily on the subject, but had more important things to worry about.

Racing upstairs he turned on the shower and ripped off his clothes, dumping them on the bathroom floor and jumping under the water before it had a chance to properly warm up. He clenched his teeth against the cold and grabbed the shampoo. Three and a half minutes later he was in his bedroom, rummaging through his drawers in search of clean jeans and a t-shirt. Down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he opened a bottle of red wine and left it to breathe before grabbing a fresh baguette and a knife. He poured olive oil into a bowl and set a dish of dukkah beside it, belatedly hoping that she liked the Mediterranean-style snack, especially given that he didn't have a heck of a lot else to offer. He pulled on an apron, and had just begun assembling ingredients for a pasta sauce when he heard a knock at the door.

He drew a deep breath. 'Steady, Angel,' he muttered to himself. 'If you keep this up you'll scare her off. It's bad enough being seen as 'hero cop' instead of 'Nick Angel'; you really, really don't need to become 'obsessed stalker neighbour'.'

"Lily, hi. Come on in."

"Thanks." She moved past him into his cottage, gazing around curiously. "Not exactly your stereotypical bachelor pad," she commented approvingly. "It's cosy."

"Thank you." He led her down to the kitchen. "Glass of wine?" he offered. "I should have asked if you drink."

"I drink," she assured him. "In a moderate and responsible way," she added, with a humorous twist to her mouth. "Ooh dukkah." She helped herself to a piece of bread.

"I hope you like pasta. I'm making a variation on primavera, with a little chilli to liven it up," he informed her, moving towards the bench.

"Pasta is good. Can I help with anything?"

He passed her a chopping-board, knife and courgette and went back to dicing onion.

"I take it you've moved around a lot?" he asked.

"Mmm," she agreed around a mouthful of wine. "I'm from Oxfordshire originally, but I did my degree in York and spent several years overseas. Graduate diploma down in Bournemouth, then I took a job up in Leeds."

"And what brought you to Sandford?"

"They were advertising for a librarian with a background in archives, so I thought I'd apply, since it's close to home and all. I didn't even make the connection between the location and what happened until I was down for my interview."

"Think you'll stick around?"

She shrugged. "I haven't really decided yet. It's a two year contract, with the possibility of renewal after that, so I guess I'll see. What about you? What made you transfer here from London?"

He cocked his head on one side, deciding how much he wanted to tell her. "Well, it's a funny story..."

**

They ate their meal sitting at the small dining table in the kitchen. Nick found himself falling silent as he caught Lily's eye on several occasions, and noticed that she blushed when she realised, and broke eye contact almost shyly. She had a lively sense of humour and a seemingly endless series of anecdotes, mainly about her travels, which had apparently been extensive.

"So," he asked at last, feeling the conversation lagging. "Lily Birch. That's a slightly unusual name."

She made a face. "My parents would have been hippies, if they'd been born in the right decade. They figured, hey, our last name sounds like a tree, so why not give our daughters floral first names? I got Tigerlily: my sisters are Primrose and Myrtle."

"And do you have a middle name?"

"Sunbeam."

In spite of himself, he choked on his wine.

"So, I rebelled the only way I could. Started going to church, got a degree, and became a librarian. Naturally, I'm a huge disappointment."

"You're a Christian?" Nick asked, although he reflected that the small gold crucifix she wore really should have tipped him off.

"Going on a decade now. And you?"

"Ah, well, I guess I'm an agnostic. I'm open to the concept of religion, but some of the things you see in this job..." he trailed off, hoping that she wasn't the kind of christian who didn't date 'unbelievers'.

"I guess it must be hard. Me, I see all the suffering in the world and I'm just glad I believe that this isn't all there is... but change the subject before I start a sermon!" she suggested with a laugh.

"Okay. What about your sisters?"

"Rose – she's the eldest – is living with a musician in London. She's the lead singer in their band, in between temping gigs. Myrr is currently living on a kibbutz in Israel. I'm the black sheep of the family." She grinned to show she wasn't serious, and Nick guessed that in fact she had a close relationship with all of them. "What about you?"

He shrugged. "Not much to tell, really. I was born and raised in London. My parents still live there, and my brother works in the City. Like yourself, I'm something of a disappointment. I protect the innocent and ensure that the guilty face justice, but Rob has a corner office and a six-figure income."

"But you're a hero!" Lily protested. "Doesn't that count for something?"

He gave a wry grin. "Not as much as you might think. I don't see much of them since I moved away: Sandford's a bit out of the way, so they can't get up here often, and I tend to be too busy with work to get down there."

"I guess that'll change though?"

He frowned slightly, not following.

"The trials? They're going to be held in London, right, so I guess you'll be headed back down there to testify."

**

They washed the dishes, and Nicholas fixed them both a cup of herbal tea. At last Lily rose, yawning slightly.

"Well, I'd better get home. Bed isn't even made up, and I'm tired out. You couldn't give me directions to the nearest supermarket, could you? I need to go shopping tomorrow."

"Of course." He grabbed a pen and paper from the sideboard and began to sketch her a map. "Tesco's is nearest, and they should have everything you need." He hesitated. "Listen, if you're free tomorrow afternoon, maybe I could show you around the village."

She smiled. "I'd like that."

She took the proffered paper and let him show her out.

"Thanks again," she told him. "I've really appreciated everything." And with that she leaned over and placed a quick kiss on his cheek before she turned swiftly and headed down his front path. "'Night," she called back, oblivious to the stunned expression on his face.


	6. Chapter 6

**When Duty Isn't Enough**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T (language)

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**Author's Note:** There's just enough swearing in the upcoming chapters that I've changed the rating. Thanks to Enyara for taking the time to review this fic. Reviews bring the happy and increase the chance of updates.

**

He was still fast asleep when his alarm rang the next morning, and sore enough from the previous day's hard labour to consider foregoing his usual run. In the end it was the ache in his muscles which decided him: he was a police officer, and if he couldn't handle lifting a few boxes and walking up and down a few flights of stairs then he needed to do something about it.

Lily's curtains were still drawn as he headed out the gate and down the road. He realised he was checking each window and deliberately turned his head away. Much more of this and he really would be turning into the crazed stalker neighbour.

They were open by the time he completed his run, and Lily herself waved cheerily to him from the living-room. He waved back but didn't stop, the words 'crazy stalker neighbour' replaying in his head like a warning.

Although he did technically have that day off as well, he had already decided that he would spend the morning, at least, at work. There was still the paperwork that he had been in the middle of when Doris had tried to kill his computer, and it was the nature of the job that crime was no respecter of the Inspector's personal time.

**

"So, Chief, which do you think is the best course of action?" Sergeant Tony Fisher asked him several hours later.

"Huh?" Nick had been miles away, deciding where in Sandford he would take Lily, and only caught the tail end of Tony's question. "Oh, uh, either will be fine. I'll leave it to your discretion, Sergeant."

Tony nodded, picked up his papers and headed off. Doris, however, regarded him with a critical eye.

"So, who is she?" she asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Oh, come on Chief, you didn't hear a word Tony just said. You were miles away, and from the look on your face it was somewhere nice. So, who is she?"

"Who's who?" Danny asked, walking in.

"Nick's met someone," Doris informed him, her tone of voice leaving no doubt as to what she meant.

"Really?" Danny looked thrilled. "Cor, that was fast. Who is she then?"

"Look, I don't know what you two are talking about."

"Ye-e-ah, look at his smile," Danny nodded gleefully, stepping right up into Nick's personal space and pointing at the corner of his mouth. "That definitely weren't there yesterday."

"We're police officers Nick, you can't keep anything from us," Doris grinned.

Nick sighed and glanced after Tony. "Do you think he noticed?"

"Tony? Nah, he's a bloke, and blokes are generally pretty oblivious in my experience. Danny wouldn't have gotten it either if I hadn't said something."

"Oi!" Danny objected.

"Well, you wouldn't have."

Nick tried to use their bickering as cover to slip away to his office. It didn't work.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Doris demanded, catching him by the arm.

"What are you thinking, Doris?" Danny asked. "Pub?"

"No!" Nick exclaimed, alarmed. As long as no-one else walked in he might be able to retain at least some semblance of privacy in the short-term: allow these two to drag him to the pub for interrogation and word of his interest in Lily would be all over the village before she even stepped out of her front door that afternoon. "Okay you two, I'll talk. But in my office, okay?"

The pair grinned at each other, and Nick had the sinking feeling that he'd just walked right into their trap. They didn't give him a chance for further thought though, steering him immediately through the door, which Danny then closed behind him.

"There." Doris folded her arms across her chest. "Now spill."

He sighed. "There isn't much to say. Her name's Lily; she just moved in next door yesterday. I helped her unpack-"

Danny and Doris nodded approval.

"- and cooked her dinner-"

"You're keen."

"- and offered to show her around the village this afternoon."

"This afternoon? When you could be... working?" Danny asked, disbelief written all over his face.

"Yeah, well, like you've both said, if I want a relationship that has a hope of lasting then I need to be ready to make some changes."

"So, do you know how she feels about you?" Danny asked.

He shook his head. "I'm not sure. For all I know, it's all in my head, and she's just being polite." He brightened slightly. "She did kiss me goodbye last night, though. On the cheek."

"OoOOoh!" Doris nodded. "She's interested alright, Chief. Just try not to blow it." She paused, seeing the spasm of anxiety that passed over his features. "You're scared you're going to blow it, aren't ya?"

He nodded miserably.

"Aw, you won't blow it," Danny reassured him. "You should have heard him yesterday, Doris. He was talking about what he wanted in a relationship, and it was all 'eyes meeting across a crowded room,' and 'butterflies in the stomach,' and 'sweaty hands,' and stuff."

Doris grinned. "Maybe not that last one," she suggested.

"What do I do?" he asked them. "How do I find out if she's interested?"

"Well, you're going for a tour of the village, right?" Doris asked. "Take her somewhere where you'll need to help her down from something – over a stile or something. Then, don't let go of her hand."

Danny nodded enthusiastically. "Then, you'll know whether she wants to hold your hand or not, because if she's not interested she'll pull away. Then, when the time's right, you pull her 'round to face you and you kiss her."

"How will I know when the time's right? And what if she slaps me."

"You'll know," Doris assured him. "And if she slaps you, you'll know she's not interested."

Nick groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I can't do this," he told them.

"Well, if you're scared of girls, there's always boys," she suggested cheekily.

He raised his head slightly. "Don't start."

Danny glanced at the clock. "When did you tell her you'd meet her?" he asked.

"One thirty."

"Well, you'd better get going then; it's almost one now."

"What?! Shit. I'll, uh, see you two later."

He could hear them laughing as he left.


	7. Chapter 7

**When Duty Isn't Enough**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**

At one thirty on the dot, Nicholas Angel was standing outside his gate. At one thirty-two he was wondering whether he should go and knock on her door. At one thirty-five he was convinced he'd been stood up. At one thirty-eight Lily finally emerged from her front door, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," she called cheerily. "The cat got out of the bathroom and I had no idea where she was, and we're so new to the neighbourhood that I can't risk her getting out when I'm not there, so I've just spent the last twenty minutes looking for her, and then she made her way under a cupboard and refused to come out, and you really don't need to know all this, do you?"

"Not really." He smiled. 'Long, bohemian-style skirt, blue t-shirt and sandals' he noted mentally, and wondered whether she'd dressed up for him or habitually wore skirts. After all, he'd only seen her once before, and that was on moving day... he mentally kicked himself for over-analysing.

"So, where to first?" she asked him.

"I thought the church? Since that might interest you?" He gestured to indicate that they should turn left, and she followed along beside him.

**

He had worried that she might press him for details about the NWA or the shoot-out, but she seemed to be deliberately avoiding the subject, for which he was thankful. She had found the Tesco's, she informed him, thanks to his 'excellent' directions, but was curious as to what the other shops in the village might have to offer. She was interested in the church, and made a note of the service times, borrowing his notepad and pen to do so.

After the church they wandered around the village, Nick mentally listing possible areas where he might put Doris' hand-holding plan into action. He was sufficiently preoccupied that he didn't consciously notice where they were until Lily stopped.

"What was this?" she asked, sounding slightly shocked.

"This was the Sandford Police Station," he informed her. Anything sensitive, salvageable or dangerous had long since been removed, but the bulk of the building had been left to lie in rubble, weeds now poking out here and there amidst the bricks.

"Did it really get blown up?" she asked.

He nodded. "By an old sea-mine we'd impounded. It was accidentally detonated during a struggle with an offender. The resulting explosion destroyed the building."

"Was anyone hurt?"

He nodded again, agonising images from that day flickering before his mind's eye. Of all the officers, he had been closest to the mine and had borne the brunt of the blast, but at the time, scrabbling out of the ruins, all he had been able to think about had been Danny, lying wounded with a gut full of the shot which had been intended for him. His own injuries had seemed nothing at that moment, the pain pushed aside as he sought desperately for his partner.

Her voice was softer now. "Were you hurt?"

He nodded a third time, and cleared his throat. "I had some burns, lacerations and contusions. And, um, some broken ribs. Broken collarbone, some internal bleeding. Multiple lacerations to the hands and face, one of which nearly cost me an eye."

She moved to stand in front of him. He felt her gentle hand on his face and knew she was tracing the tiny, near-invisible scars. Forehead, cheek, chin, lips.

His lips weren't scarred.

He turned his gaze away from the ruins of the old station and met her eyes instead. Her fingers moved back to his cheek, and his eyes fluttered closed as he bent his head and brushed his lips lightly across hers.

He hesitated, half-expecting to be pushed away or slapped, but instead felt her hands slide around his shoulders and her lips press more firmly against his.

After a moment, they drew apart. He swallowed, uncertain of what to do next, aware that his hands had somehow come to rest on her waist. She didn't seem to be in any hurry to move away, so he left them there.

"Lily, I'm useless at relationships."

"Okay."

"I'm obsessed with work."

"Okay."

"I don't know how to switch off."

"Okay."

"I forget things. Important things. Birthdays, anniversaries, stuff like that."

"Okay."

He stared at her. "Do you have anything else to say, apart from 'okay'."

She shrugged. "I'm habitually late. For everything."

"Okay."

"I have a completely inappropriate sense of humour."

"Okay."

"I talk way too much and over-share about my personal life."

"Okay."

"I don't believe in sex before marriage."

"Okay."

"I like to go walking alone at night, even though I know it's dangerous."

"Oo- you know what, that's not okay. Do you have any idea what could happen to you, alone on the streets af-"

Her lips met his again, effectively silencing him.

She was grinning as she pulled away. "You think we can work something out?"


	8. Chapter 8

**When Duty Isn't Enough**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**Author's Note:** I've tried to make Danny sound a bit more like Danny in this chapter: I don't feel I did a very good job of him last time. Also, having shown Nick's relationship with Danny and Doris as being fairly equal, I wanted to give him an excuse to pull rank. As the Andys were my least-favourite characters, guess who ended up the target?

**

"Phwoar, NicholARSE!" Andy Cartwright hollered across the station as soon as Nick walked through the door the next day. Nick stared at him, momentarily shocked into silence. "Yeah!" The Detective Constable added a couple of pelvic thrusts, just in case his meaning wasn't already abundantly clear.

"Excuse _me_!" Recovering his power of speech, along with disgust and a deep anger that was rapidly reaching boiling point, the Inspector strode across to his subordinate.

Cartwright was, as usual, completely unable to read the signs of impending doom, and continued on regardless. "So, who is she then? She as tasty as she looks? Wearing anything under that skirt?"

"Detective Constable," Nicholas began, his tone low and biting, "As your Inspector I am willing to tolerate a certain degree of barracks-room humour between officers in the name of camaraderie and because, frankly, if I didn't I'd be looking for a new staff within a week. I will not, however, tolerate any officer in this station making crude and vulgar remarks about any member of the public, most definitely including my girlfriend." The volume of his voice had been steadily rising as his temper reached boiling point, and now became a shout. "Do I make myself clear, Detective Constable Cartwright?"

Cartwright had continued grinning as Nick began his tirade, but by the end, with his commanding officer's furious face now only inches from his own, he had finally realised that the Inspector wasn't joking. His grin faded to a nervous swallow. "Yeah, Chief, got it."

"And you?" Nick rounded on Wainwright, who had been watching the unfolding drama wide-eyed. He held up his hands and shook his head, the universal gesture for 'I want nothing to do with this.'

"In that case," Nicholas' tone was now icily controlled, "I suggest you both find somewhere else to be. Right now."

The pair practically fell over themselves in their haste to leave, and he turned his furious expression on Doris and Danny. His best friend was looking decidedly uneasy, whilst Doris' expression was only a few notches below terrified.

"I thought I made it clear to the two of you that this was a private matter."

"Hey, don't blame us!" Danny protested. "What'd you expect would happen if you went making out with her in front of the 'ole village?"

He closed his eyes in realisation, his anger turning abruptly inward. "Shit."

"Well," Danny suggested hesitantly, "maybe it's better this way? I mean, women don't generally like it if you act like you're ashamed of them."

"I know, I know," his friend responded. "I just... I don't like the feeling that everyone's watching me all the time. It's like I don't have any privacy here, and if I screw this up it'll be in full view of the public."

"Yeah," Danny agreed. "It's a bastard, eh?"

Nick nodded, and headed towards his office. He needed a few moments to collect himself.

"Chief?" Doris called tentatively.

"Yeah, Doris?"

"It's nothing really. It's just that, when you were reaming Andy out, I couldn't help noticing that you called Lily your 'girlfriend'?" There was a hopeful look in her eye, and Nick sighed.

"Yes, well, we made out in front of half of Sandford, so I guess it's official. If you'll excuse me."

He shut the door to his office and leaned against it, drawing a deep breath. Outside, Doris and Danny nudged one another and grinned.

**

The summer sun was warming the stones of Sandford when Nick joined Danny in their patrol car an hour later. To the casual eye the Inspector now appeared fully composed, as though his earlier outburst had never happened. Danny, however, knew his old partner better than anyone, and immediately noticed the tight set of his jaw and the rigid line of his shoulders.

"I thought you'd be pleased," he muttered in a subdued tone as they pulled away from the curb.

"About Cartwright? How could I possibly be pleased about-"

"No, I meant about Lily. I mean, here you've been moping about for months needing a girlfriend, and now one moves in right next door and you've got a face like a wet weekend."

"You know I like to keep my private life private."

"Yeah, I know, but the thing you've gotta accept, Nick, is this isn't London. Everyone knows everyone round 'ere, and it's no use trying to keep anything secret. You 'n Lily'll be the talk of the village for a few weeks, but then you'll be old news."

"Doesn't that bother you?" He turned to look at his partner, curiosity easing some of the tight lines his face had settled into. "Having everyone know your personal business, that doesn't bother you at all?"

Danny shrugged. "Never really lived anywhere else, have I? Half the people we pass on the street've known me since I were a kid. Doris and I were in the same year all through school. Truth is, I can't imagine _not_ knowin' everyone's names and personal business. It's just the way it is."

"I guess it's different for me. London's big, anonymous. Everyone's just another face in the crowd, and so are you. No-one cares who you are, or who you're seeing. You can be... invisible."

"And that's better than being surrounded by people who care about you? We do, you know. Even the Andys. I mean, they're a couple of pricks, obviously, but they do care."

Nick smiled slightly. "Yeah, I know."

"So stop worryin' about it. You've just got yourself a new girlfriend; why not think about her instead?" When he received no reply he stole a sideways glance at Nick, and saw that he had finally relaxed into his seat, his lips turned up slightly as he apparently took his friend's advice. "So, is it like you imagined?" he prompted at last.

"Hmm?"

"You know, butterflies and tongue-tied, and sweaty hands."

Nick nodded. "Surprisingly, not the last one."

"Yeah?" It was Danny's turn to nod as he considered this information. "Just as well, really."

He continued to drive, and the pair lapsed into comfortable silence for a while.

"By the way, Nick?"

"Yeah?"

"You owe the swear-box for two 's'-words."

"You..."

"Careful, or you'll owe it for that, too."


	9. Chapter 9

**When Duty Isn't Enough**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**

They were driving through the village several hours later when Nick spotted Lily emerging from the hardware store, her arms filled with a number of burdens. Unthinkingly, he shifted in his seat to watch her. Alerted by the sudden movement, Danny slowed the patrol car and followed his partner's gaze. Seeing only a pretty girl and no apparent crime in progress, he leapt to a hasty conclusion.

"'Ere, is that your girlfriend?"

"Yes, that's Lily, but there's no need to-" Danny was already pulling over. "Danny, we're on duty. It isn't appropriate for us to-"

"Oh, give over. I want to meet her, don't I?"

Realising that he had little option, Nicholas followed his partner from the car. Lily had stopped when she noticed it pulling over, a confused expression on her face. It cleared when she saw Nick, and she began to walk towards them.

"Hey!" she called cheerfully.

"Hey, Lily," he replied, in a more subdued tone.

She frowned slightly, then appeared to read the situation and nodded once to herself, coming to a stop at an appropriate conversational distance.

"You've, ah, been shopping," he observed.

"Yeah. The cottage needs a lot of work, so I thought I'd better get onto it. That's the only reason I could afford it really. Well, that and the location." She glanced around meaningfully. Tourism in Sandford might be up, but housing prices in the area had plummeted. "But, given the way housing prices are going these days, this could be my best chance to get onto the property ladder, so I thought I'd better take it. Not that you need to know all this, of course."

He smiled slightly at that. He had already noticed that variations on the phrase 'not that you needed to know all this' appeared to be one of her favourite expressions: unsurprising, given her self-confessed habit of over-sharing.

"Just as well I'm handy with a hammer, eh?"

At this point, Danny gave his partner a not-so-subtle nudge.

"Just as well," he repeated. "Lily, I'd like you to meet my partner, Sergeant Danny Butterman. Danny, this is Lily Birch."

Danny grinned. "Nice to meet ya."

"You too." She juggled her packages, shifting their weight onto her left arm so she could extend her right hand to Danny.

"Nick's told us heaps about you," he informed her, as he accepted the proffered hand.

"Oh? None of it's true. Well, except the good stuff. There was good stuff, right?"

Danny nodded. "Oh yeah."

She blushed slightly as she belatedly realised the implied double meaning of her question. "Well, I'd better get on." She turned her attention back to Nick. "Stop by this evening for a cuppa, if you like."

He let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. He could hardly show open affection for her while he was on duty – it would have been completely unprofessional – but he was well aware that his coolness could have been misinterpreted. "Thanks, I'd like that."

"See you later then." And she was gone, headed down the street towards her car.

"Oh. My. God." Danny turned to stare at his partner in disbelief. "I can't believe you didn't even give her a peck on the cheek."

"Sergeant, official police guidelines state that-"

"Oh, sod the guidelines. She's your girlfriend, isn't she?"

Nick clenched his jaw in exasperation. It was at times like this that he realised just how much of a gulf still existed between him and his Sandford colleagues. "No, not 'sod the guidelines'. Those guidelines exist for a reason, Danny. You can't just ignore them at will and expect it all to work out in the end. It doesn't work that way."

"Alright, I was just sayin'."

Nick drew a deep breath. This was Danny, he reminded himself. His best friend, as well as his partner. "So, what did you think?" he asked.

As always, Danny accepted the olive branch with good grace, reminding Nick of just exactly how they had remained friends for so long. "Well, she's pretty," he allowed. "Bit impractical, them long skirts and all, but I guess that's just her style. She really plannin' on doing that cottage up by herself?" That last seemed to impress him.

"Apparently." Nick hadn't known that but he wasn't surprised, given what he had noticed of the state of the place while he was helping her unpack. For the first time, he had realised exactly why it had taken the better part of six months to get his own cottage habitable.

**

It was after eight that evening when he knocked on her door. He hadn't been sure of what to say when he saw her, but found it didn't matter as he simply caught her hands, drew her close and kissed her.

"I wanted to do that earlier," he admitted as they parted. "But, you know, I was on duty and-"

"It wasn't appropriate," she finished for him. "Yeah, I figured that. Come on in."

"You don't mind, then?" he asked as he followed her back towards the kitchen.

"Why would I? I wouldn't go kissing you when I was working, so 'sauce for the goose' and all. Beside," she glanced over her shoulder at him with a grin, "it was worth waiting for."

He relaxed, relieved he hadn't offended her.

"Your partner seems nice," she observed, as she reached into the cupboard for mugs.

"Danny? Yeah, he's great. Been my best friend practically since I arrived in Sandford."

"That must be awkward at times, you being his commanding officer and all. Tea or coffee?"

"I don't really like to have caffeine this late at night..."

"Chamomile then? I think I saw some when I was unpacking."

"That'd be great, thanks. Yes, it can get awkward at times, but he's a good mate. And a good officer."

"If you say so. I still don't understand how all that could have gone on, right under everyone's noses."

"Frank Butterman played a big part in that. He didn't exactly look for the cream of the crop when he was recruiting, and he made sure to stamp out any trace of initiative or curiosity in his officers."

"Butterman? So he was Danny's...?"

"Dad. It hasn't been easy for him."

"I'll bet." She held out a mug of chamomile tea towards him, and gestured towards the living-room.

"And what about you?" she asked as they seated themselves on the sofa. She leaned against one arm, folding her leg under herself and angling her body so that she was facing him. "How are you finding life as the Chief of the Sandford Police Service?"

"Honestly?"

She nodded encouragingly.

"I hate it."

She looked surprised at the stark confession, and part of him was at least as surprised that he had simply come out with it like that. A rather larger part of him realised that it had been inevitable that sooner or later he would have shared his feelings with some sympathetic ear, and it was probably just as well that it wasn't one of his colleagues.

"Don't tell anyone I said that, okay? Not even Danny."

"Take it to the grave. Got it."

"I love Sandford, "he clarified. "I love the people here; I love how peaceful it is compared with London. I've made friends here that I never want to lose. But," he shook his head, "I never wanted a desk job. Never even wanted to be a sergeant, but they didn't give me a choice. Then, when everything happened here, they needed an acting Inspector in a hurry, and I was it. Literally. They couldn't promote anyone else from within Sandford – Frank had seen to that – and no-one here was going to trust an outsider. And eventually they needed to appoint someone to the role permanently."

"And no-one else wanted the job?"

"Oh, plenty of people wanted it. Unfortunately, the Powers That Be decided to give it to the one person who didn't want it. So here I am, two ranks above where I wanted to be, one above where I legitimately should be, and wondering just how I got myself into this mess."

"You could always quit?" she suggested.

He shook his head. "I'm a police officer to the bone. Even with all of this, that hasn't changed. The problem is, there really isn't anyone else for the job. Sandford's sort of a special case. And, like I said, I love the people here; I wouldn't want to let them down. So I'm stuck with it." He leaned his head back against her sofa and closed his eyes in an attitude of resignation.

She nodded. "I think I understand. You've got so much here, but it comes at a price. It's a conundrum."

Setting her mug of tea on the coffee table she reached out and took his hand in both of hers, rubbing the palm with her thumbs. She kept that up for a few moments, then began using her finger and thumb to rub down each of his fingers in turn.

"What are you doing?" he asked, opening one eye.

"Hand massage. You don't mind, do you? You look like you need to relax."

"No," he closed his eyes again, enjoying the attention. "I don't mind." A pause. "Where did you learn to do this anyway?"

"A friend of mine's a massage therapist. She taught me."

"Oh."

He was aware of her continuing to work over his hand and wrist for a moment, then felt her rise and move around him. His own mug was taken gently from his hand, and he heard the dull thunk as she set it aside before she turned her attention to his other hand. He reflected that he probably should open his eyes and talk to her, that it was rude to ignore his host, but he just couldn't be bothered. He wondered briefly whether she had drugged his tea, but rejected the idea. He had been feeling more and more frayed lately, and the relief of having finally talked to someone coupled with a comfortable seat and the thoroughly relaxing hand massage was sending him off to sleep as surely as any illicit chemical.

He awoke with a start, uncertain exactly how long he'd been out. Long enough that the muscles in his neck protested when he raised his head, and his eyes felt gritty as he opened them.

"Lily?" he asked, glancing towards where she had last been seated. She was still curled up at the end of the sofa, a book in her hands and a small black and white cat on her lap. She met his eye and smiled. "I'm so sorry," he told her. "I hope I wasn't out too long."

She glanced at the clock and shrugged. "Maybe twenty minutes. You look like you needed it."

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "If you don't mind, I think I'd better head home."

"Not in the least." She stood, setting her book aside and moving the cat, which mewled in protest. "I'll see you out."

He kissed her goodbye on the doorstep, then wrapped his arms around her, still not fully awake. After a moment she gently pushed him away.

"Nick?"

"Hmm?"

"There's affectionate, and then there's using me for a prop while you fall asleep on your feet." She laid a last light kiss on his cheek. "Get to bed," she suggested kindly.

His own house was as cold and dark as ever, but for once it didn't bother him.


	10. Chapter 10

**When Duty Isn't Enough**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**

Up, juice, jog, glance at Lily's curtains (open), shower, breakfast, work. Cartwright and Wainwright were conspicuous by their absence – Turner grunted something about their investigating a break-in up at Twin Hills Farm – and Fisher was out on patrol, but Doris and Danny were there, grinning like a pair of idiots as they loitered by the door to his office.

"We got you something," Danny told him brightly. "Well, Doris got it, but I think it's a great idea."

Nick was careful to keep his expression neutral as Doris pulled an A4 envelope out from behind her back. "Ta-da!"

"It's... an envelope."

"Open it."

Inside there was a calendar. Pink, with photographs of flowers.

"Well, it's very nice. What is it for?"

"It's your Lily calendar," Doris told him.

Nick thought about this for a moment. "No, I'm sorry, I'm not following."

"Flowers? Lilies are a type of flower?" she tried.

"Still not with you."

"Well," Danny explained, "you know how you once told me that you kept missing important events when you were going out with Janine?"

"Yes."

"So, you keep this in your office and you put all of your important events onto it. Like Lily's birthday, your anniversaries, dates. All the stuff you need to remember."

"And then what?"

"Then you make sure you don't miss any of the dates."

"Yeah, one good thing about being the boss is you can delegate."

They were still grinning, clearly pleased with themselves, and Nick felt a sudden warm glow at their friendship. "That's very kind of you, thank you."

"So, do you know when her birthday is, then?" Doris asked.

"Uh," he reached for his trusty note-pad. "She mentioned it, yes."

"Isn't that note-pad for official police business only?" Danny teased as Doris reached over to her desk and grabbed a red biro.

"Well..."

"It's colour-coded," she explained. "Red means you can't afford to miss it. Blue means you might get away with it."

"Birthdays are red-letter days?"

"Along with your one-month, six-month, and one-year anniversaries, and Valentine's Day."

"One year? You do know I only met her three days ago?"

"Well, no harm in being prepared, is there?" Doris passed the calendar back to him and picked up her hat. "Got to go, Chief, we're on patrol."

"See ya later, mate. Put that calendar up, okay?"

And with that they were gone. Nick turned the calendar over in his hands. It sounded crazy, but then so had single-handedly taking on the NWA with an arsenal of impounded weapons and no back-up , and he'd managed that, so maybe it was worth a shot. He found a tack and pinned the calendar up on the wall of his office, then turned his attention to the files of the applicants for the two Police Constable's positions he needed to fill.

With everyone out on patrol the station was almost eerily quiet. Day-shift Turner was far less garrulous than his night-shift twin, and Nick was undisturbed as he considered the applications in front of him. He had never bothered to recruit a new P.C. when Danny had made sergeant, preferring to focus on up-skilling his existing team rather than breaking in new members, but with Walker's departure he felt the time was right to start looking. He was hoping, as he began reading applications, that he would be able to expand the diversity of the Sandford service, either with an officer from an ethnic minority, or with another female officer, or both, but he was realistic enough to accept that he needed the best officers he could get and, given the make-up of the British police service as a whole, that might very well mean accepting two more white males.

He soon found one promising candidate, a young Afro-Caribbean P.C. from Birmingham. She had a good record and what appeared to be a promising career-path open to her up there, though, and he made a note to look into her motives for applying for a position somewhere as out-of-the-way as Sandford. As he had feared, the remaining candidates were mainly second-string, and the rest of his aptly-named short-list consisted of white males. He smiled slightly to himself at the irony that the demographic responsible for the majority of crime also furnished the majority of law enforcement officers, but irony was no substitute for suitable candidates.

He glanced around his office with a sigh, his eyes coming to rest on his new calendar. He recalled something Danny had said about dates, and it occurred to him suddenly that he had not as yet made any actual plans to take Lily anywhere. Reflecting that he was overdue for his Union-mandated break anyway, he determined to rectify the situation forthwith. A glance at his regular planner confirmed several free evenings in the near future, and he reached into his breast pocket for his note-pad.

Flicking it open to the page headed 'Lily' he found listed, along with details such as her full name, date of birth, and the way she liked her tea, her mobile number. Mobiles were still somewhat of a novelty in Sandford, reception having been touch-and-go, heavy on the 'go', for a long time, and the first local tower had only been constructed in the wake of the storm of finger-pointing and if-onlys that the Sandford Conspiracy had raised. Reception was still patchy, particularly in the outlying areas, but sales had been high as almost every resident sought the security of having assistance and the ability to check on their loved ones only a phonecall away at any given moment.

Lily's phone rang three times before she answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Lily, it's Nick."

"Nick?" she sounded surprised. "I thought you were at work."

"Yeah, I am. Tea-break. Just a quick phonecall to ask if you'd like to have dinner with me over in Buford Abbey this Tuesday?" He crossed his fingers but needn't have worried.

"Yeah, that sounds great."

"Okay, great. I'll get back to you with the details, but pick you up around six?"

"Sounds great. I'll be ready." He was about to say goodbye when she cut him off. "Ah, Nick, you do remember what I said about being habitually late, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, if you're a little adrift of six I really won't mind."

He wasn't sure whether to be amused or irritated, so settled for the former. "A little after six; got it." Movement in the doorway brought his head up, to see Sergeant Tony Fisher staring at him with an expression of poorly-concealed disbelief on his face. "Listen, I have to go. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Later."

Silence on the other end of the line confirmed that she had hung up, and Nick replaced the receiver in the cradle and directed his gaze at Tony. "Did you want something, Sergeant?" he prompted after a moment of silence had passed.

"Yeah, no, erm-" Tony was clearly trying to gather his thoughts after catching his Inspector in the act of making a personal call during working hours. "Who was that?"

"Probably better if you ask Doris," Nick replied, deciding that she would enjoy filling Tony in far more than he would. "You wanted...?"

"Oh, yeah. Just to let you know that I've brought in Thomas Driver. Caught him loiterin' outside old Mrs. Weaver's front window, and given half the village knows she's back in hospital I thought it might have something to do with the recent break-ins. So I'm runnin' his prints while he cools his heels in holding."

Nick nodded. "Good work, Sergeant. Keep me posted."

Fisher nodded. "Will do." With a last curious glance at the telephone he left, no doubt in search of Doris. Nick watched him go, then reached for a blue pen.


	11. Chapter 11

**When Duty Isn't Enough: Interlude**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**Author's Note:** First of all, a big THANK-YOU to all the people who have taken the time to write me reviews, particularly Spud. Thanks guys for making a lonely fanfic-writer very happy. This chapter and the next are made up of a bunch of ideas that didn't really seem long enough to carry chapters of their own. None of them are particularly plot-relevant, they're more in the way of a series of snapshots in Nick and Lily's developing relationship.

**

**First Date**

Nick checked his watch. It was ten past six, and he had effectively promised Lily he'd be late to pick her up. He had a suspicion, however, that she would be counting on his lateness, and had booked their table for seven o'clock. Allowing half an hour to reach Buford Abbey they still had twenty minutes in hand. He knocked on her door and waited. After a moment, the words 'just a minute' filtered through from inside. After almost five minutes there was a clatter of feet down the stairs, and the door opened. Nick couldn't help but stare. She was wearing a floral-print dress which hugged the curves of her body before falling away to a long, floating skirt. A touch of make-up highlighted her eyes and cheeks, and she was wearing some kind of spicy-floral perfume.

"You look amazing," he told her honestly.

"Thanks. You look pretty good yourself." He was wearing dark pants with a short-sleeved white shirt and a jacket. She caught him by the lapels and pulled him in for a kiss.

The parted after a moment and he gestured towards the car.

"Shall we?"

"We're going in that?"

"Yes," he replied, puzzled. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nick, that's a police car."

"And I'm a police officer. What did you expect?"

She laughed. "Not this."

He opened the passenger-side door for her with a grin. "Are you coming or not?"

She shook her head, smiling, and seated herself inside. He walked around the patrol car to join her. It had occurred to him only at the last moment that, with no vehicle of his own, he would have no option but to use his work vehicle. He had barely had time to fill out the required paperwork before he came to meet her.

"You know, I've never ridden in one of these before," she told him.

"Well, it's generally better to be in the front than the back."

She reached towards the shiny buttons, an expression of magpie-like fascination on her face. "Which one of these is the siren?"

"If I tell you, will you press it?"

"Possibly." Her fingers were now hovering just in front of the dashboard. He caught her hand gently in his and replaced it in her lap.

"Please," he asked, "don't touch anything?"

"Spoilsport," she told him good-naturedly.

**

**Pub**

Doris and Sarah had grabbed a booth and Danny was at the bar ordering drinks when Nick and Lily walked through the door. Having resigned himself to the reality of a public relationship, he had decided to take the bull by the horns and arranged to introduce his girlfriend to his two closest friends at the refurbished Crown.

"Hey, Nick!" Doris called cheerfully to him. Sarah, who didn't know him so well, smiled and waved.

"Hey Doris. Lily, these are Constable Doris Thatcher and Sarah Johnston, Danny's girlfriend. Ladies, this is Lily."

"Nice to meet you." Lily reached over to shake both women's hands. Nick rested a hand on her waist.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked her.

"Vodka-lemonade?"

He kissed her cheek. "Coming right up."

Danny passed Nick as he headed for the bar and scooted in close to Sarah, handing her and Doris their beers. "Hey Lily."

"Good to see you again Danny."

"Nick getting you something?" She nodded. "Not cranberry juice?" Doris laughed, and Sarah and Lily exchanged puzzled glances.

By the end of the evening both women understood the joke, and plenty of others as well.

**

**Conversations: a matter of faith**

"Did you really become a Christian just to annoy your parents?"

She thought about it for a moment. "It started out that way," she admitted. "Typical teenage rebellion, really, but after a while I began to see something more in it. In the end I realised that I believed it. Without sounding too much like a wide-eyed fanatic, I came to believe that there was a God who loved me, who wanted to know me personally, and that that would have implications for how I lived my life. So I started to change my life in response to that. Now," she shrugged, "I can't imagine living any differently."

"Oh." He thought about this for a while. "I studied Eastern religions a while back."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Got kind of interested in Buddhism, but, I don't know."

"Never found anything you believed in?"

He shrugged. "I believe in the law. Protecting the weak, upholding the rights of the powerless, seeing that justice is done. Isn't that what religion's supposed to be about?"

She nodded. "That, and grace."

"That everyone should get off scot-free no matter what terrible things they've done?" He frowned slightly. "Never really saw the justice in that."

"Hmm." Lily frowned thoughtfully. "It's not like that, because you have to repent first. That's the deal. Know that you need to be forgiven. Believe, then receive." She sighed. "I'm useless at these sorts of conversations," she admitted. "I always start talking in clichés."

"Change of subject?"

She grinned. "How do you feel about pineapple on pizza?"

**

**Conversations: people will say we're in love**

"Danny, I think I'm in love."

"With Lily?"

"No, with you."

The look on Danny's face was priceless. "Uh, listen mate, I'm flattered and all, but-" At that point, Nick's control broke and he could no longer maintain a straight face. "You bastard," Danny cursed.

Nick continued to shake with silent laughter for a moment more, enjoying his revenge. Now if only he could find some way to get back at Doris...

"You know," Danny informed him, "it'd be easier to tell when you're joking if you did it more often. You nearly had me there."

"But if I did it more often I would have missed seeing that expression on your face. Honestly, Danny, it was priceless. A mixture of confusion, mortification, and blind terror."

"You know, usin' humour to hide your fears is both childish and completely out of character," Danny informed him with exaggerated dignity.

Nick sobered, and sighed. "You're right. And in answer to your question, yes, I think I'm in love with Lily."

"'Ave you told her that?"

"Not yet. Do you think I should?"

Danny shook his head. "You really are hopeless sometimes, aren't you?"

**

**D.I.Y**

"Lily, are you home?"

"In the living-room."

She was dressed in cargo pants rather than her usual skirt, and had a piece of timber balanced across two wooden saw-horses, which she was cutting industriously. The room smelled of fresh plaster and fresher sawdust.

"What have I said about leaving doors open?" he asked as he brushed a kiss over her lips.

"Oops? Fancy a cup of tea?"

"Yes please, and don't change the subject."

"Me too. Milk, one sugar, thanks."

For a minute he stared at her, open-mouthed. Then he shook his head and went to fix them both a drink. He came back a few moments later and handed her mug to her, seating himself on the arm of the dustcloth-covered sofa while she perched on one of the horses.

"I'm serious, you know."

"Yes, you usually are."

"Is this going to be an argument?"

"Only if you refuse to let it go. This isn't London, Nick. I always lock up at night and before I go out, but when I'm home I prefer to leave it open. Besides," she added, with an air of finality, "like my mum always says, 'locked doors only keep honest people out'."

He gave up. She did have a point about the relative safety of Sandford. Since the NWA had been arrested there had been several cases in which valuables had been taken from houses where the front doors were left open, but no incidents of violence against the inhabitants.

"I came over to give you a hand," he told her, and she brightened at the change of topic.

"Excellent. I'm just working on some new floor-boards."

"You can actually do those by yourself?" He was impressed.

"There are a few bits that really need two pairs of hands, but pretty much, yeah. I'm getting a professional in to do the windows, though. They're way beyond me. Still, you do what you can, not what you can't, eh?"

**

**Conversations: three little words**

"You know I love you, right?" Nick said suddenly.

The movie they had been watching had just finished, the credits still rolling across the T.V. screen. Lily lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled at him.

"'Course I do," she replied. "Only fair, really, since I love you too."

There didn't seem to be anything else to say at that point, so he kissed her instead.

**


	12. Chapter 12

**When Duty Isn't Enough**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**

**Chocolate cake**

"Something smells good," Nick commented as he followed Lily towards her kitchen.

"It's chocolate cake. I just iced it. Want a slice?"

"I don't really eat chocolate cake."

"Not even when your girlfriend makes it? You have to when your girlfriend makes it. It's like a law."

He shook his head, smiling, already knowing that he was going to give in. "Lily, I'm a police officer. There's no such law."

"That's why I said it was _like_ a law," she grinned back. "Although I'm considering writing to my M.P."

"You would actually write to your M.P. to request a law be passed requiring men to eat their girlfriends' chocolate cake?" He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Her insanity must be catching, he thought, because he half-believed she might actually do it.

"Mm-huh," she affirmed. "So, really, it'd be easier if you just had some. C'mon Nick," she pleaded. "I've seen you eat Cornettos. And this is home-made with love and all-natural ingredients. Pleeeease?"

"Alright. A small piece."

She grinned and kissed him. "Yay."

**

**Reading Material**

It was so late that it would soon become early, but Nick was unable to put the book down. When he had asked Reverend Grant for something which might expand his understanding of Lily's faith he had been attempting to garner a degree of intellectual insight, nothing more, but the book Grant had provided was doing far more than that. Alone in the late-night quiet of his living-room his heart was starting to thrum with the possibility that all this might, just might, be true. And if it was, if there was a hope beyond the seeming hopelessness of a depraved world, a love beyond the fleeting, failing feelings of this world, a chance for forgiveness even when you felt that what you had done was unforgivable... Well, he hadn't quite worked out all the implications yet, but the WHAT IF? was inscribing itself in capital letters in his mind, and he just had to talk to someone.

"Lily? Lily, it's Nick. Open up!"

"Nick?" The window above him opened, and his girlfriend's head emerged. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" she hissed.

"I know. I'm sorry. I need to talk to you." He smiled hopefully up at her, and she sighed and withdrew back into the house. A moment later he heard her footsteps on the stairs.

"What if it's true?" he asked her as soon as she opened the door, grabbing at her upper arms in eagerness.

"What?" She was heavy-eyed with sleepiness, her arms wrapped around her dressing-gown-clad form in an effort to ward off the chill. "Nick, it's 2am. What's so important it can't wait?"

"What if it's true?" he repeated, eyes shining, as he let himself into her house. "What if God's real, and Jesus is real, and the Bible is true? What does that mean?"

He wandered restlessly through to her living-room and began to pace backwards and forwards. Lily, meanwhile, dropped herself down onto the sofa and wrapped the throw around her shoulders. For the next hour she let him talk himself out, heading down to the kitchen at one point to fix them both a cup of tea. He didn't object to the caffeine, didn't even notice it, but continued to talk until at last he sat, exhausted, and prayed the first sincere prayer to cross his lips since he was a child: "God, if you're real, I need to know you're there. And I'm sorry about those kids in the pub. And, uh, amen."

**

**Fighting, and making up**

"That's Lily," Nick told Danny, pulling over. It was nearly 10pm, and dark enough that it was only the familiarity of having seen her almost every day for the last three months that allowed him to recognise her.

"What's she doin' out this late?"

"Walking." Nick's tone was flat with disapproval. "Lily!" he called, as he stepped out of the patrol car. She turned towards him and he would have bet good money that she was scowling. "What on earth are you doing out this late?" he asked in a quieter tone as he closed the gap between them.

"Walking," she replied in a deceptively reasonable voice.

"I thought we talked about this."

"No, you lectured me on how dangerous it was, and I decided to ignore you."

"Do you have any idea what could happen to you?"

"Do you have any idea how unlikely it is that anything'll happen to me? I've been doing this for years, Nick, and I've never had a problem."

"And one day your luck will run out, and I'll be picking you up from the hospital, or worse. Look, I'll drop you home."

"Thanks, but I'd rather walk."

"Lily, please."

"I said I'd rather walk."

"Look, just get in the car."

"I'm not getting in the bloody car."

He considered grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the vehicle, but rejected the idea. She wasn't technically doing anything wrong – beyond taking years off his life expectancy with worry, anyway – and Nicholas Angel had never, ever laid hands upon a woman in anger.

"Then I'll walk you home."

"You do that."

The next afternoon he knocked on her door.

"Nick?"

He held a small cardboard box out to her. "Peace offering?"

"What is it?"

"Open it."

She did so, and frowned at him, puzzled. "A Tamagotchi?" she tried, her lips twisting in amusement.

That surprised a laugh out of him in spite of the tension. "It's a personal alarm. I want you to take it with you when you go walking, okay? And I'm going to teach you some self-defence moves."

Ten minutes later he was flat on his back on her living-room carpet, and Lily was wincing as she looked down at him.

"Are you okay?" she asked as she offered him her hand.

"Ow." He sat up slowly. "Yeah, I think so. What just happened?"

"I have a blue belt in aikido," she admitted.

"And you couldn't have just told me?"

She had the decency to look contrite. "I could have, but I was mad at you. Besides, I thought you had a black belt in judo."

"Yes, but you had the element of surprise."

She pulled him closer and kissed him. "Always."

**

**Conversations: being happy**

"So, you seem a lot more cheerful lately," Danny observed, taking a long swallow of his beer.

"Yeah." Nick sipped his own pint. It was just the two of them tonight, and it was good to have a chance to catch up.

"That Lily. Who'd have thought Inspector Angel would start leaving work on time."

"Well, I've discovered that work isn't all there is to life."

Danny hesitated, his glass half-way to his lips. "You still, um, you still _like_ your job, though?" he asked tentatively.

"What makes you ask that?" Nick hedged.

"I don't know. It's just... when you arrived you were so into it, like Robocop or something. Now you look miserable half the time, and the other half is when you're thinkin' about Lily."

"I miss being out on the street. I spend so much time behind a desk that I don't feel I'm being as effective as I could be."

"What're you talkin' about?" Danny exclaimed in total disbelief. "Now you have all of us being your ears and eyes and legs. You're like this amped-up, expanded version of yourself. You can't tell me that makes you less effective."

Nick took a long swallow of his beer. "I guess it's hard stepping back. Back in London they used to tease me about trying to be 'the Sheriff of London', a one-man crime-stopping force."

"Well, even a Sheriff's gotta have his deputies, right? An' deputies need a Sheriff. You're our Sheriff, Nick."

He thought about this for a moment, the nodded. "You're right," he said eventually. "I never thought of it that way, but you're right."

Nothing more was said on the subject, but over the next few weeks Danny couldn't help but notice that his friend seemed to be a _lot_ more contented in his work.

**

**Blackberries**

"You're honestly telling me you've never been brambling before? My dad used to take us every autumn, in the woods near our house." Lily smiled at the memory. "And then mum would help us make blackberry and apple pie. And in the spring we'd go up there to pick bluebells."

He smiled back at her. "I grew up in a concrete jungle. I'll take you down to London some time and we'll visit the Natural History Museum. That was my favourite place when I was a kid."

"A museum?"

"They have this massive dinosaur skeleton in the foyer, and a T-Rex, and a blue whale."

"For real?"

"Well, not live ones, obviously, but yeah. When you're seven years old stuff like that makes an impression."

"I'll bet."

They were walking together through the morning-damp grass up to the woods behind Brannigan Farm. It had been Lily's idea to go brambling on their shared day off, and her enthusiasm had been infectious. A short while later the two of them were picking clusters of the plump, deep-purple berries from the trailing brambles that filled this quiet corner of woodland.

"You should plant these around your cottage, you know."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. They'd be great for deterring intruders; even thornier than roses."

He threw a blackberry at her.

**


	13. Chapter 13

**When Duty Isn't Enough: Interlude**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**Author's Note:** Um, okay, I didn't mean for Nick's mother to come across as this much of a bitch. I thought she would like Lily, but apparently I was mistaken. As for Nick's angsting, he's a driven, over-achieving perfectionist, and you've got to wonder why.

**

**Meeting the Parents: His**

"Right. Okay. Yes, that'll be fine. Okay. Okay. See you then. Bye."

Lily looked up from her seat on the sofa, where she had been listening to Nick's end of the phone conversation. "Everything alright?" she asked, frowning slightly in concern. Nick wasn't surprised. He was aware that the tension in his voice had been steadily rising throughout the conversation, and by the end had been all but gritting his teeth to keep from yelling.

"Yeah. That was my mother."

"Oh?" She gestured for him to sit beside her and he did so, although it meant resisting the urge to pace around the room in agitation. He dropped his arms around her and held her tightly for a moment, breathing her scent in deeply and consciously relaxing muscles which had tensed as his mother talked on.

"They're coming up from London to visit. Next month."

"And... this is good? Not good?"

"It's..." he sighed and shook his head. "Fraught. They never wanted me to be a police officer. But, now that the cottage is done they want to see Sandford again, and they're keen to meet you."

"Should I be worried?" her tone was light. His was not.

"Probably."

"Oookay. Just so's I know where I stand."

**

Nick was panicking. He had drawn up a list of things he needed to do before his parents arrived, but for every item he crossed off he seemed to add another. He had made his double bed up with clean sheets so that they could sleep in it. Then he had remembered that, as he would be using the single room across the hall, he would need to move his essentials over there. He had been shopping and picked up things he normally never touched, including Jaffa cakes, mayonnaise and instant coffee, but had since added white bread, Horlicks, and full-fat milk to the list. Now he was preparing the roast for the oven so that it could cook while he picked them up, and dreading the thought of what else he might have forgotten.

There was a knock at his door, and he heard Lily calling out to him.

"Just a minute!" He opened the oven, shoved in the beef, closed it with his foot, and rinsed his hands hastily under the tap. Lily was waiting patiently when he opened the door. She raised an eyebrow at the expression on his face.

"You look stressed."

For some reason both her expression and her tone jarred him. "Thanks," he replied sarcastically. "That's really helpful, Lily."

"Glad to be of service," she responded in kind. "You really wanna have a fight right now?" she added in a more reasonable tone.

He closed his eyes briefly, and his shoulders slumped. "No."

She kissed him. "So take the apron off, and go get your parents. I'll get the veggies done, go home and change, then whip over to the supermarket before I rejoin you."

He smiled gratefully. He must have sounded even more desperate than he thought when, having reached the end of his tether, he had rung her for help. "You're a life-saver," he told her sincerely.

She grinned and wrapped her arms around him, contriving to hug him whilst simultaneously untying the apron. "I know. Consider it payback for all the help with the renovations."

He nuzzled her hair lightly. "You know I wasn't keeping score."

Her hand dipped into his pocket. "Keys," she told him, holding them up. "Parents. Train. Late. Go."

He gave her a hasty kiss and headed for the car.

**

He had known in advance that collecting his parents in a marked police car was unlikely to be a popular move, but it was that or Lily's battered two-door Fiat, which would likely be looked upon even less favourably, so he accepted the sharp intake of breath from his mother and the sorrowful head-shaking of his father stoically.

"You'll find it's quite comfortable, but you can't open the doors from the inside," he told them. "It's about a half-hour to Sandford, although you won't be able to see much in the dark, I'm afraid."

"It's all fields anyway, isn't it?" his mother asked.

"This is a very rural area, yes," he replied.

"So, Nicholas, how's, um, Rose, wasn't it?" his father tried.

"Lily," he corrected in what he hoped was a neutral tone.

"Ah. Knew it was some kind of flower."

"She's well. You'll get to meet her tonight, actually; she's joining us for dinner."

"I don't understand why people do that," his mother commented. "Give their children silly names. 'Lily Birch': what sort of a name is that? Now, when we were choosing names for you and your brother, Nicholas, we looked for good, solid, respectable names."

"I know, mum," he replied. _'And I've endured the better part of thirty years of being called 'NicholARSE' and asked where my underpants are as a result,'_ he added mentally. He wondered how his mother would react to finding out that 'Lily' was actually short for 'Tigerlily', and was glad for her sake that he'd never mentioned it to them; or to hearing him called 'Nick', as he now almost always was. She had always been dead set against it, he remembered, to the point of lecturing his entire class on the subject when, at the age of nine, he had briefly sought an escape from the endless and inevitable taunts. He had gotten beaten up quite a bit as a result, he recalled with some bitterness.

The entire thirty minute drive from Buford Abbey continued in much the same vein, and Nick was relieved to pull up outside his cottage.

"Here we are," he informed them, before walking around to open their doors.

"It's rather pokey," his mother commented as he led them inside. "I would have thought an inspector would merit something more spacious."

"It's more than big enough to meet my needs," he replied, before offering to take her coat.

Lily was bringing wine, but he dug into his cupboards and opened a bottle anyway. He wasn't sure exactly when she would be arriving, and he needed the alcohol now rather than later.

"So, when can we expect to meet this Daisy?" his father asked as he returned with the glasses.

"Lily. And I don't know exactly. She's stopping by the supermarket first." As soon as he said it, he knew it was a mistake.

"'Stopping by the supermarket first'?" his mother repeated. "Well, it's good to know that we're an important priority in her life, I'm sure."

"She's picking up a few things I forgot earlier," he explained. That was unlikely to improve the situation, but he'd rather they focussed their disapproval on him. After all, he was used to it.

"So you couldn't be bothered draw up a shopping list, and now we have to wait for dinner, having hardly eaten since lunchtime on that interminable train-ride?"

He was saved from the necessity of a reply by a knock at the door. "That'll be Lily now," he told them, and almost ran to answer it. "Your timing is impeccable," he said gratefully, as he opened the door and kissed his girlfriend's cheek.

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah. And my father thinks you're called Rose, or possibly Daisy."

"Great." He noticed that she was dressed more conservatively than he had ever seen her, in a pink knitted top with a slightly scooped neck, and a long, dark denim skirt. Even her shoes were conservative; black, with a slight heel. Seeing the effort she had made for him was as comforting as the weight of the shopping bag she handed him. "Showtime," she whispered for his ears only, before sweeping into the living room, a smile suddenly blossoming full-force on her face. "Mrs. Angel, Mr. Angel, how lovely to meet you at last."

His mother looked her up and down, pursing her lips thoughtfully.

"So you're Daisy," his father said. "Good to meet you too."

"Thank you," she smiled. "Nick's told me a lot about you."

"We always call him Nicholas," his mother informed her frostily.

Nick winced, and Lily's smile faltered for a moment. "Really? I never knew that. Well, Nicholas has been a great help to me since I moved in here."

"Yes, I understand he's spent a great deal of time assisting you with your renovations. Having unpaid labour on-call must be a real advantage."

Lily's eyes narrowed slightly. '_Well,'_ Nick thought, with a sense of inevitability, _'that didn't take long.'_ "Oh, absolutely," she replied. "Of course, I like to think I've made it worth his while in other ways. We've had a lot of fun together, these last few months. Haven't we, Nicholas?" The words were innocent, the tone was anything but. To Nick's secret delight, his mother appeared momentarily at a loss for words.

"Um, Lily, can you give me a hand in the kitchen?" he asked her.

"Of course." She grabbed her wine glass and followed him down the corridor.

"I'm sorry, Nick – Nicholas," she apologised, real contrition in her voice. "I shouldn't be trying to wind her up."

He winced again. It hurt to hear her call him that. Nicholas was another person, someone he had gladly left behind somewhere between London and now. "Please don't call me that," he asked, eyes on the ground.

"Okay. Nick." She stepped in close to him and put her arms around him. He sighed, and hugged her back. "Are they always like this?" she asked plaintively.

He nodded. "More or less. In their eyes I'm 'too good' to be a police officer, especially out here in the middle of nowhere. Mum's apparently decided that you're beneath me, too."

"Lovely."

She leaned against him for a moment more, then pushed away. "Let's get on with dinner, before they decide to come looking for us."

It was one of the most awkward meals of Nick's life, and that proved to be indicative of the weekend as a whole. His mother insisted that she wanted to meet his friends, but Nick was determined to keep her away from Danny and Doris. Neither of them deserved to be exposed to the condescending manner in which his mother would no doubt have treated the 'lowly country bumpkins' who had become some of the most important people in his life.

"Get rid of that girl, Nicholas," was her parting shot at the railway station. "She's just using you."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he replied, curtly. At which point, his mother finally went Too Far.

"A common little tart like that? You deserve better, Nicholas, a girl with class, refinement. What are you going to do? Marry her, and spend the rest of your life wasting away out here in the middle of nowhere, paying to raise her brats? Brats that probably won't even be yours. Why-"

"Okay, that's enough." He was angry now, really angry, and it cut through years of nagging guilt and an aching desire to somehow, someday win his parents' approval. "Lily means the world to me, and she's shown me more love and affection in the last three months than you have in thirty years. I love her, she loves me, and yes, I may very well marry her someday, and if I do you'll be welcome to attend the wedding. Until then, I wish you a safe trip back to London and please, don't hurry back."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

**

Lily knew something was wrong as soon as she opened her door.

"Nick?" She wrapped her arms around him. "Come inside, sit down." And, a moment later, very gently, "Tell me?"

To his shame, tears born of anger, betrayal and years of humiliation and frustration welled up in his eyes. "I've never been good enough," he told her. "Never, not once in my life, no matter what I did, have I been good enough for them. And you know what? I can deal with that. Everyone has issues with their parents, and there's people far worse off than I am." He paused and drew a deep breath. "But you? You are the most amazing person I know, and what she said about you was totally out of line."

"Okay." Lily nodded. "Nick? Nick, look at me." Her voice was gentle, and she laid her hand lightly on his cheek as he raised his head. "It doesn't matter to me what your parents think of me. All that matters to me is what you think of me. So, do you still love me?"

He nodded. "Of course I do. You mean the world to me, Lily."

She nodded again. "And I still love you. And you're more than good enough for me." She stroked her thumb along his cheek, tracing one of his more prominent scars. "You are the bravest and most self-sacrificing person I know. You're willing to put yourself on the line every day to protect people, no matter who they are. You're honest and honourable, and if your parents can't see that then that's their fault, not yours." She kissed him lightly. "I love you, Nick Angel. And as long as you love me, your parents can take care of themselves."


	14. Chapter 14

**When Duty Isn't Enough: Interlude**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**Author's note: **I wasn't sure what the law on cannabis was in the UK (heck, I'm not entirely sure what it is in New Zealand), but it appears from the Home Office website that it was reclassified as a Class B drug in January 2009. Although that's slightly outside the timeline of this fic, I decided to work with current law rather than potentially misinform people. I never envisaged Lily's parents as being career criminals, just as having a rather more relaxed approach to the law than Nicholas does (think a bit of pot, the odd job paid under the table, that kind of thing). Lily, obviously, knows or suspects all this, but it's hard to bring out in dialogue, as she wouldn't mention it to Nick.

**

**Meeting the Parents: Hers**

"Hey, Nick?" Lily asked, as she dropped herself down on the sofa and deposited her feet in his lap.

"Yeah?" He turned his head slightly to look at her, rubbing her soles absently with his thumbs.

"You remember how your parents came to visit a few weeks ago?"

He winced and nodded. "Yes." It would take many years, ideally involving a great deal of therapy, or possibly total amnesia, before he forgot the debacle which had been that particular weekend.

"Well, my parents are driving down next Thursday."

"The middle of the week?"

She shrugged. "Sure, why not? They mostly do seasonal work, and it's the off-season for just about everything at the moment."

Nick had forgotten that. Of course her parents would not necessarily need to wait for a weekend. Now that their children had all flown the nest they lived a semi-nomadic life, moving between Britain and the Continent as they followed a trail of seasonal work from beach-resorts to fruit-picking to ski-resorts and back again, with a host of other jobs on the side. Be it office work, construction, pulling pints, or any one of a hundred occupations, both Lily's parents seemed to be Jacks-of-all-trades, which perhaps explained their middle daughter's willingness to take on renovating an entire cottage virtually single-handedly.

"How long are they planning on staying?"

"Probably only a few days. They're supposed to be meeting friends down in Cornwall, so they can't stay long."

"Should I be worried?"

"Possibly. To be honest, they're not too thrilled that I'm dating a police officer."

"Ah."

"Yeah. So just stay calm, take a lot of deep breaths, and try to resist the urge to arrest them."

Nick couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern at that last. "Is there some reason in particular why I might feel the need to take them into custody?"

"Oh God, I hope not," Lily muttered, as much to herself as to him.

**

Apart from repeating her request that he not arrest her family members – and Nick was beginning to wonder why exactly that might concern her so much – Lily appeared much calmer than he had been in the days leading up to her parents' arrival. A pile of linen appeared in the living-room in preparation for making up the sofa-bed, and she picked up some extra food at the supermarket, but other than that her life seemed to continue more or less as usual. As Nick had done for his parents, she was planning on cooking them all a meal at her house on the night of their arrival, but she had assured Nick that he didn't need to make any special arrangements or leave work early. "Just turn up whenever," she assured him, "and bring beer."

Nevertheless, he made sure to leave work at a reasonable hour on Thursday evening, and arrived at her cottage just after six. A battered white Volkswagen was parked alongside the Fiat, and the lights were shining through a crack in the curtains. He tried the door and, to his surprise – and immediate suspicion – found it locked.

"Lily?" he called, knocking sharply.

"Just a minute!"

A pungent and familiar aroma reached him as soon as she opened the door, and the guilty look on her face confirmed his suspicions.

"Lily, why can I smell cannabis?"

She ducked her head, refusing to meet his eye. "If I told you it was mine, would you arrest me?"

"No, because I'd know you were lying to cover for someone else. In this case, presumably your parents."

She sighed. "Just my dad."

His lips thinned, and he took a determined step towards the living-room, but she caught his arm. "Just leave it, Nick?" she begged. "It's taken care of."

"Lily, I can't 'just leave it'. Cannabis is a Class B drug, and possession is a criminal offense."

"Yes, well, he's no longer in possession."

He folded his arms, seething. Her requests that he resist the urge to arrest her parents now made perfect sense, but she was placing him in a difficult position, made even worse by the fact that, at the rate she was going, he might very well end up having to arrest her, too. "What do you mean by that?"

Maybe it was his expression, or perhaps she was a bit more familiar with the way these things worked than she had ever let on, but she had plainly realised that admitting to exactly what she had done with her father's stash would not be a good move. "Never mind. Suffice to say it's sorted and it won't be happening again." She didn't add 'I hope', but he could read it in her eyes anyway. He caught her chin with his fingers, examining her closely for any sign that she might have been partaking of the drug in question.

"Well, at least you're clean," he acknowledged grudgingly.

She pushed his hand away irritably. "Of course I'm bloody clean. Now, would you please let it go and come meet my parents."

He drew a deep breath. "I can't 'let it go', Lily," he repeated, and saw her set her jaw. He thought he caught a glint of tears in her eyes, and suddenly wondered whether it was anger that was stiffening her expression, or something else. He sighed and continued more gently. "The possession of cannabis is a criminal offense. But, since I have your assurance that your father is apparently no longer in possession, and since to the best of my knowledge this is a first offense, in this instance I see no reason why I shouldn't let him off with a warning."

Her shoulders slumped with relief, and he realised just how anxious she had been. "Thank you."

He shook his head. Technically, he was well within police guidelines to give an official warning rather than make an arrest, especially as he was fairly certain that Lily would indeed have disposed of her father's entire stash, but he was less than pleased that her parents had put her, and by extension him, in that position. He would have bet good money that it was deliberate, and disapproved thoroughly of the idea that Lily's father would play such games with his own daughter.

If her parents had overheard the whispered conversation in the hallway they gave no sign of it as he entered the living-room. Both were sitting on the sofa enjoying a bottle of beer. Her father looked slightly buzzed, but either he had finished his joint a while ago or Lily had cut him off when he'd barely started, because he certainly wasn't stoned.

"You must be Nick." Lily's mother was an older and slightly more tanned version of her daughter. She rose and stepped forward, hugging him and kissing his cheek.

"Mrs. Birch." He hugged her back awkwardly. He had never been comfortable with that particular social convention.

"Alison, please."

"Alison. Mr. Birch, may I have a word with you outside?"

"Sure." The older man heaved himself up and offered his hand. "Steve," he said. "Good to meet you at last."

"Yes, well. Shall we?"

They left the two women in the living-room, and Nick led the way to the kitchen.

"There a problem, Nick?"

He turned to face his girlfriend's father. How could the man be so casual, he wondered? Was he truly that unaware of the situation in which he had placed both Nicholas, as Inspector of the Sandford Police, and his own daughter?

"Mr. Birch, are you aware that cannabis is classified as a Class B drug within the United Kingdom, and that the possession of even small amounts is a criminal offense, for which you can be liable for a fine of up to eighty pounds, or a custodial sentence of up to five years in prison?"

"Uh..."

"Are you further aware that, by bringing cannabis into your daughter's house, you have potentially made her an accessory to your own offense, placing her at risk of similar penalties?"

"Uh, listen..."

"Or that, as a police officer, I cannot allow my personal relationship with your daughter, or her relationship to you, to affect my judgement and actions in this matter?"

"Look, mate..."

Steve trailed off, but this time Nick did not immediately continue speaking. Instead he folded his arms, pasted his patented policeman's glare full-force on his face, and allowed his words to sink in. Steve wilted under the weight of it. Once it seemed clear that he appreciated the magnitude of his actions Nick continued in a fractionally less icy tone, moving roughly from Antarctica to Siberia.

"My personal suspicion is that you were aware of this, and that by smoking cannabis in your daughter's house you were in some way testing her boundaries and, more importantly, mine. Well, so that you know where they lie: Lily assures me that she has confiscated and disposed of your supply, which I must point out makes her an accessory after the fact. In this instance – and, I must stress, in this instance only – I am going to let you off with an official warning. Should you choose to bring a further supply of cannabis into this house or, indeed, into my village, I can and will place you under arrest and see that you face the full weight of the law. Do we understand one another?"

"Oh, for- yes, we understand one another."

**

The mountains of awkwardness which Nick had faced during his own parents' visit seemed as foothills beside the Everest of discomfort with which he and Lily sat down to the meal with hers. To be fair, Steve seemed willing to forgive and forget when it came to the official warning, which lent credence to Nick's theory that he had, indeed, been testing the boundaries, but that quickly became cold comfort.

"So, Nick," Alison Birch asked brightly, "have you managed to convince my daughter to give up her ridiculous vow of celibacy yet?"

Nick choked slightly on his lasagne, feeling his cheeks redden. "Actually, I respect Lily's decision, and the commitment to her beliefs which led her to make it."

"Are you planning on marrying my daughter?" Steve asked.

Lily appeared mortified. "Da-ad!" she protested helplessly.

"To be honest, we haven't really discussed it."

Her father smiled at her. "Sweetheart, all we're saying is, you wouldn't buy a car without taking it for a test drive, and you shouldn't be considering marriage-"

"If you haven't at least taken him for a spin," his wife finished for him.

"Mother!" Lily sunk her head into her hands.

"Would you excuse me for just a moment?" Nick left the table and sought the sanctuary of the hallway. He shut the door behind him and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. They were unbelievable. Angel the cat wandered over and sniffed around his ankles hopefully. From the dining room he could still hear the conversation, muted slightly by the door.

"You're being ridiculous, Lily," Alison continued relentlessly. "I mean, have you seen that arse? On a man in uniform, no less. How can you turn that down? And he seems very... forceful."

At this rate, Nick thought, they would be able to cook tomorrow night's dinner on his cheeks. He could now see why his girlfriend, whom he would class as fairly moderate, maintained that her family viewed her as some form of arch-conservative class traitor.

"Hmm, that worries me a bit," her father added. "You know why he wanted to talk to me tonight? The pot. He had the nerve to tell me that if he caught me with marijuana again he'd arrest me."

"You're lucky he let you off with a warning. If I hadn't flushed-" she broke off. "You're listening from the hallway, aren't you Nick?" she called suddenly. He remained silent. It might be true that eavesdroppers seldom heard anything to their own benefit, but he just couldn't face walking back in there just yet.

"Well, all I'm saying is, do you really want to spend the rest of your life with someone who's that black and white about things? Your mother and I worked hard to teach you to think for yourselves and see every side of an issue."

"No, you taught us that 'if it feels right, it probably is right', which in my experience isn't always the greatest frame of reference for making important life decisions. Nick has a strong sense of right and wrong, and you know what? I like that. I admire it. Yes, it might make him a bit difficult to live with sometimes, but at least I always know where I stand, and, more importantly, where he stands. Even if it is in the hallway." As she finished speaking, her voice seemed to be drawing closer, and he had only a second's warning before the door opened next to him. "You can't just leave me alone with them while you skulk out here," she hissed, "now get back in here and make polite conversation."

If nothing else, he had to admit that her parents were a lot more interesting than his.


	15. Chapter 15

**When Duty Isn't Enough**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**Author's Note:** Okay, interlude over; back to the main story. Thanks to Spud for pointing out a couple of errors in the last chapter, and for taking the time to write me an awesome epic of a review – you made my day! I'm going away for a few days, so I'm posting all the remaining chapters of this fic together. Enjoy!

**

The days were now noticeably shorter, and the weather was growing ever-colder as winter drew closer. Lily had managed to convince Nick to come mushrooming with her before the season ended, and so they were once again headed to the woods above Brannigan Farm.

"I still don't think this is a good idea, you know," he commented as they headed up the hill, breath steaming in the morning air. "From what I've read it's pretty hard to distinguish innocuous mushrooms from toxic ones."

"Oh, it's simple enough," Lily replied. "If you eat it and die, it was a poisonous one."

"You really do have a completely inappropriate sense of humour, don't you?"

She shrugged. "I did warn you. Although I have to say, I don't think you were entirely honest with me when we started going out."

"Oh? How's that?"

"Well, you told me you were a workaholic who habitually missed dates and neglected his girlfriend, but in the last four months you've missed all of two dates, both for very good reasons, remembered our one-month _and_ three-month anniversaries, spoiled me rotten on my birthday, managed to refrain from arresting my family members, and generally been nothing if not attentive."

He blushed. "Well, you mean a lot to me. And Doris and Danny keep me on the straight and narrow. I told you about the 'Lily Calendar', right?"

She stopped to pick several brown-grey mushrooms, and Nick reached into his pocket for his field-guide to common mushrooms and toadstools of Great Britain.

"Yes, you told me about it. I think it's sweet."

She popped one of the mushrooms into her mouth.

"Lily! I haven't worked out if that one's safe yet."

She clutched her throat melodramatically and pretended to choke. He scowled and ignored her, having finally found a picture which matched what she was eating. Quickly scanning the information he was relieved to note that it was, indeed, non-toxic and safe to eat. He trusted Lily, but he was still convinced that her devil-may-care attitude towards her own safety would send him to an early grave.

They wandered past the brambles, now devoid of fruit, and Lily stopped to pick some more mushrooms. They were identical to the ones she had picked earlier, so Nick assumed they were safe and instead glanced up into the trees, trying to locate a blackbird which he could hear singing somewhere.

"Nick?"

"Yeah?" He turned his attention away from the blackbird and glanced back at Lily. She was staring at something deeper in the bramble patch, out of his line of sight. "Can you see something in there?"

He walked over to her side, following her gaze. The annual die-back of summer plant-life had opened up the undergrowth, allowing them to see farther than they had when they were there before, and revealing a splash of man-made colour deeper in the bushes. Nick felt his heart sink. He had a fairly good idea of what bright clothing might be doing deep in the undergrowth in such an out-of-the-way place, and it meant his date with Lily was about to end on a thoroughly unpleasant note.

His curious girlfriend was already moving closer, pushing the brambles aside with one jacket-clad arm.

"Lily." Something in his tone of voice stopped her in her tracks. He caught up to her, holding his palms out towards her in a stilling gesture, looking her straight in the eye with an expression she hadn't seen him wear before. "Just stay here, okay. Let me check it out."

She nodded, and he moved past her, picking his way carefully until he was able to crouch down beside the worn red sweater and jeans. A quick look confirmed that the clothes did, indeed, contain the remains of a body. He ran his eyes over it, careful not to touch anything. The remains were in an advanced stage of decomposition and had no doubt been there for several years, at the least. Scanning the nearby surroundings, he noticed what could only be a second body lying just past the first. Satisfied that he had seen enough he headed back towards Lily.

He dug into his pocket for his mobile, but was unsurprised to see that there was no reception in the remote spot. "We need to go back to the car," he told her.

"It's a body, isn't it?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Probably more than one. I need to call Forensics to come and check it out. Hopefully we'll have a signal up by the road." When she didn't answer he reached out and touched her arm. "Lily? We need to go." She nodded, and he took her hand. She followed him without protest.

She handed him the keys and he seated her in the passenger's seat before checking his phone again. The signal was faint, but enough that he could make the call.

"Turner, it's Angel. I need CSI at Brannigan Woods. We've found a couple of bodies. Can you get someone up here to secure the scene until they arrive?"

Turner grunted something in the affirmative, and he disconnected and turned his attention back to Lily.

"Are you okay?"

She drew a deep breath. "Yeah, I think so. It's just kind of surreal. One minute we're looking for mushrooms, and the next... It's a bit of a shock when you're not used to it."

"Yeah, that never really goes away." They had been young, he thought, probably just teenagers. Had their parents waited in vain for them to come home? Had their girlfriends wondered why the phone never rang? Had there been a gap in their team photo that year? He closed his eyes. There was little doubt in his mind that these bodies were more victims of the NWA.

The sound of a siren echoed across the still fields, and a moment later a patrol car pulled up. Fisher and one of the new recruits, Constable Jemimah Payton, emerged. Fisher, as always, looked as though he'd slept in his uniform, whilst Constable Payton was crisp and clean without so much as a hair out of place (Danny's response upon meeting her for the first time had been to turn to Nick and remark, fortunately out of her earshot, "Oh my God. She's a female version of you.").

"What's going on, Inspector?" Fisher asked.

"Miss Birch and I were up in the woods and found what appear to be two severely decomposed bodies in the undergrowth."

"Right, well, you'd better show us where so we can cordon it off until CSI can get here."

He nodded. "Lily, you'd better wait here."

He showed his officers to the scene, then left them in charge, promising to write up a statement and bring it in the next morning. As he walked back to the car he couldn't help reflecting on how much things had changed. Once, he would never have trusted Fisher to take charge of a scene, not even with a constable as competent as Payton backing him up. And even if he had, he would have felt compelled to remain at the scene until the last CSI left. But these days he trusted his team to fly solo – and was willing to give them the opportunity to do so.

Lily was subdued on the drive home, and Nick seated her on her sofa while he fixed her a cup of sweet tea. Without thinking about it, he was doing what he would have done for any shocked witness or traumatised victim, but this time it was different. This time the shocked witness was his girlfriend, and he was going through the motions because he didn't know what else to do. He had never wanted this part of his life to touch hers.

"Here you go." He sat down beside her, watching her anxiously.

"Thanks." She sipped in silence, and he saw some of the tension drain from her shoulders. "Nick?" she asked suddenly. "Will you stay here tonight?" She blushed. "In the spare room, I mean."

He nodded. "'Course I will."


	16. Chapter 16

**When Duty Isn't Enough**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**

The rain beat steadily down on the car, the wipers sweeping it aside to reveal the road to Buford Abbey stretching out before them, illuminated by the headlights. It was early December and that, combined with the rain, meant that the afternoon sky was already almost as gloomy as night. It matched the mood of the car's two occupants as Lily pulled up outside Buford Abbey Railway Station.

"Well, here we are." She shut off the engine and the only sound was the plunk of raindrops on the roof.

"Yeah." Nick turned in his seat and met her eye.

"You'll put them away, Nick? For those kids in the woods, and all the others."

"I'll do my best." He pulled her close and kissed her. "I'll miss you," he murmured against her hair.

"Me too." She sighed. Silence reigned for a moment before she pulled reluctantly away. "You'll miss your train."

He stepped out into the rain and collected his suitcase and the bag containing his dress uniform from the back seat. Lily walked with him into the station, then out onto the platform.

"You don't have to wait with me; you'll only get cold."

"I don't mind."

She watched until the train pulled away, then walked into the small station cafe to steady herself with a cup of tea before the lonely drive home.

**

Nick stowed his luggage and settled himself into a seat on the slow local train that would carry him on the first leg of his journey back to London. He gazed out of the window as the train began to pull away, watching Lily as she stood alone and forlorn on the platform. The train gathered speed and she was lost from sight. He swallowed and leaned his head against the back of his seat.

His mind flashed back to the station that morning.

It had been a subdued group of officers who had gathered in the squad room. The Inspector was the first member of the Sandford service to be called to London to give evidence in the trial of the NWA members. It was likely that at least some of the others would also be summoned to the City at some point, but as practically the entire village were witnesses in one way or another the decision had been made that, in the majority of cases, statements would simply be read into evidence and the witnesses contacted by video-link if further questioning were required.

The two new constables had been sent out on patrol, so only those who had been present on the fateful day when the NWA had finally been taken down were there to see Nick off. The conversation was stilted, heavy with things left unsaid, and the officers lapsed repeatedly into silence. Danny was particularly subdued, no doubt thinking of his father. Nick had quietly taken Tony aside the previous day and given him permission to sign Danny off on leave and send him home if he thought his performance was being too badly compromised, but he appreciated that his best friend would rather be at work than sitting alone brooding over the 'if onlys' of his father's actions.

"Well, I'll miss you all," he told them finally, "but I'm confident that you'll manage in my absence. You have my number, though, so you can contact me if anything important comes up."

They nodded.

"You will be coming back, right?" Danny asked suddenly.

"Of course I will. I've never met a team I cared for as much as I do for my sergeants and constables here in Sandford."

"And your detectives," added Cartwright.

"No, I left you two out on purpose."

The laughter that comment evoked eased some of the tension in the room.

He was already in the foyer when he heard Doris' voice behind him.

"Chief?"

"Doris?"

Suddenly, she flung her arms around his neck, catching him off-guard.

"You really will be coming back, won't you?" she asked.

"Of course I will," he reassured her, returning her embrace awkwardly.

She stepped away, and he was surprised to see tears in her eyes.

"No-one here took me seriously before you came along," she told him. "They treated me like some sort of joke, like a little girl playing dress-up." She gave a small smile. "Think maybe that's why I used to act like I did: at least then they didn't think of me as a kid, eh?"

"You're a fine police officer, Doris," he told her.

She nodded. "Thank you, sir."

**

It was fully dark by the time he changed trains for the express which would take him into London. He thought of Lily, probably curled up on her sofa with a fire burning and a cup of tea in her hand, and wished he was there beside her.

His mobile beeped in his pocket.

'1 New Message: Lily'

He smiled and opened the message. Three little words: 'I love you.'

He tapped out a reply: 'I love you too. xx'

He stared blindly out into the darkness, images of his life in Sandford playing before his mind's eye. Danny, Lily, Doris, Tony... he had made some good friends in the last two years. Good friends who had suffered because of Frank and the NWA. His old scowl returned as he thought of that, and he knew that he would do everything in his power to keep his promise to Lily.

**

Paddington Station was crowded and noisy, everyone hurrying to get somewhere else, and Nick was momentarily shocked, as though he had dived suddenly into icy water. He had only been back down to London once since he moved to Sandford, and the press of people was both disorientating and disconcerting after so long in the tranquillity of rural Gloucestershire.

"Nicholas!" Hearing his full name was a further source of disorientation after so long hearing 'Nick' from his friends and 'Chief' or 'Inspector Angel' from everyone else. But there was David Rogers, his old Inspector, waving to him through the crowds.

"Inspector."

"Please, Nicholas, I think we can go with Dave now," he replied, clapping his former P.C. on the shoulder.

"Dave. I wasn't expecting anyone to meet me."

"Oh, I know, but we thought the least we could do was send someone along to pick you up. Have you eaten? Fancy a curry?"

"Uh, sure." The last thing Nick wanted was to make polite conversation with one of the people who had first conspired to ship him off to the back of beyond for being an embarrassment, and then attempted to lure him back to London in an effort to avoid further embarrassment. He had his private suspicions that these same individuals had also had a say in his appointment to the position of Inspector, presumably knowing that he'd hate it.

"So," Dave asked brightly as he took a swallow of his beer in the garishly bright restaurant to which he had guided them, "how are things in Sandford?"

"They're pretty good, actually." Nick sipped his mineral water. "My team have developed a lot in the last couple of years, and I've just appointed a couple of new P.C.s."

"And what about your personal life?"

Nick thought for a moment, and decided that he didn't particularly want to discuss Lily with Rogers, or anyone else he had worked with in London. "It remains personal."

"So, no desire to return to London, then?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Right then."

The meal passed awkwardly, and Nick was relieved when he could close the door to his hotel room and sit down on the bed. He pulled out his wallet and opened it to the two photos he carried there. The first was a formally posed picture of the Sandford Police Service at the official opening of the new police station. The second was a picture of him with Lily, their smiling faces close together. He looked at them both for a long moment, then sighed. The worst part, he thought, was not knowing exactly how long he would have to remain in London.


	17. Chapter 17

**When Duty Isn't Enough**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

******

Nick walked out of the courtroom the next day feeling more drained than he had at any time since the immediate aftermath of the shoot-out. He had been warned by a member of the prosecuting team that the defence, having failed to convince anyone that Frank Butterman was legally insane, would instead try to convince the jury that Inspector Nicholas Angel was. He had felt himself freezing over, retreating back into the cold, largely emotionless, persona which he had worn for much of his time with the Met. His old London colleagues would have considered it par for the course, whilst the team from Sandford would have wondered whether the last two and a half years had happened. He doubted that Lily would have recognised him.

A swirl of reporters surrounded him, a mob of jostling, shouting faces wielding microphones, tape recorders, cameras and note-pads. He cleared his throat and uttered a few tight 'no comment's' before reaching the sanctuary of a waiting unmarked car.

He gave directions to his hotel, then stared unseeingly out of the window. 'Put him away' Lily had asked, and he hoped his efforts had gone some way towards that end.

It had been strange seeing Frank Butterman and the other members of the Sandford NWA again, and even stranger seeing Frank out of uniform. There had been no hint of contrition on the older man's face, no sorrow for the suffering he had caused, or remorse for the betrayal he had committed against the law he was sworn to uphold, not to mention what he had done to his own son. He had not taken the stand today, and Nick was grateful for that. He didn't think he could have stood to hear that calm, jolly voice trying once again to convince him that nothing was wrong, that it was all perfectly reasonable and under control.

The young constable driving the car was plainly aware of exactly whom he was transporting, and awed by his passenger's reputation to the point that he was reluctant to break the silence which Nick had drawn about himself. It therefore took several moments for him to realise that he was back at his hotel.

He looked at his watch, and was surprised by how early it was. Far too early for dinner. He considered the bar – God knew, he needed a drink – but dismissed the idea. The way he was feeling right now, alcohol was probably not a good idea. He was too restless to focus on an action movie, so he settled instead for Lily's favourite pastime, changing quickly out of his uniform before setting off to wander the streets.

He wandered carelessly, trusting in the part of his mind that was always on duty to keep him from walking into trouble. The shops were bright and cheerful with Christmas decorations, and reminded him that he needed to buy presents. In spite of what had happened during their visit he had promised to see his family whilst he was down, so he needed something for them or his life wouldn't be worth living, at least for the duration of their time together. Then there were his friends in Sandford, particularly Lily and Danny.

He sorted Danny quickly enough – a newly released three-disk extra-expanded-super-ultimate-bonus set of one of his favourite action movies – but found himself stuck for Lily. The shining window of a jeweller's caught his eye. Perhaps a pair of earrings?

The young woman behind the counter barely glanced up from her nails as he walked inside. He cleared his throat and she dragged her gaze to him with an exaggerated sigh. '_Ah, Londo_n,' he thought, _'how I have missed your cold and impersonal touch.'_ "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, "I was looking for a pair of..." then he spotted them. Not earrings, but rings. A whole tray of diamond engagement rings.

"A pair of...?" The girl's lip curled up slightly in a sneer of barely-concealed contempt.

"No," he corrected, suddenly certain of what he was going to buy. "Not earrings. A ring. One of those."

Half an hour later he left the shop. He had bought earrings in the end, a pair for Lily and another for his mother, but it was the small, square box nestled safely in his breast pocket which put a smile back on his lips.

**

Over the next few days that box became his talisman. He seldom touched it, and never drew it out in public, but when he breathed deeply he could feel it resting close to his heart. He drew strength from that as his story was poked and prodded, analysed to the last micro-second, every decision tested and weighed in the precious light of hindsight, divorced now from the split-seconds in which he had had to make them. It seemed to go on forever, and he lived for the evenings when he would return to his hotel room and check his text messages, ring his friends in Sandford, or simply collapse into bed.

After six days, it was over.

The next day he had lunch with his parents before catching the next train back out of the city. As brick and stone gave way to fields and hedges he drew his mobile from his pocket and sent the two people he loved most a simple message:

'I'm coming home.'


	18. Epilogue

**When Duty Isn't Enough: Epilogue**

**Author: **Firebird

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Neither Hot Fuzz nor its characters, settings etc. are mine. Original characters are, as the name would imply, original and belong to me.

**Author's Note:** As with 'David Rogers', I'm making up Nick's middle name. Again, if anyone has better information please let me know. And, as Porky Pig used to say, 'that's all, folks!'

******

Of the NWA conspirators only Michael Armstrong, who had been found mentally unfit to stand trial, failed to receive a custodial sentence. The turncoats, Annette Roper and Sheree and Greg Prosser, received sentences of between seven and ten years each. The rest of the conspirators received stretches ranging from fifteen years all the way to life. Frank Butterman, the instigator and ringleader of the entire murderous plot, received a sentence of life without possibility of parole.

The day the sentences were announced, Danny Butterman shut himself away in his house and watched action movies for three days straight. Nick signed the paperwork for compassionate leave without hesitation, then clocked out and went over to his best friend's house. He didn't say much, just sat next to him and stared at the TV screen until they both fell asleep. It seemed to help.

The following summer, Nicholas John Angel married Tigerlily Sunbeam Birch at St. Vincent's church, Sandford. The Buford Abbey Police Service supplied officers to cover the area for the day so that all the officers in Sandford could attend the wedding. Nick's family came up from London. Lily's sister flew in from Israel. The bride wore white. Danny was the best man. Butterflies fluttered in stomachs. And Nick's hands were sweating as he slipped the ring onto his new wife's finger.


End file.
